Category: loss of child

Grief is Complicated

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“The powerful surge of sorrow and grief, and the magnitude of the empty space that resides in my heart and in my life since Brittany died, is real. It’s not some story that happened to me. Every October 13th, I am reminded my journey is far from over. Some days it feels like I just started this journey yesterday, and other days it seems like a lifetime ago.” – Mal Moss, Grief Blessings, The Story of Unimaginable Grief and Unexpected Blessings

I’ve struggled of late to find the words or the will to write. I’ve given it a lot of thought and the quote from my book “Grief Blessings” above captures the essence of my grief journey. I’ve only had a few times since I began to write where I couldn’t find the energy to write. Words usually come easily to me. Even as I sit here writing this, my mind just wanders and the distractions around me are so loud. 

This morning while riding my bike it occurred to me that I’ve been “retired” from my nursing career for almost a year. From the time Brittany died, I worked. I worked extra hours/shifts. I stayed busy. It was an avoidance behavior that kept my grief in check. The pain from the incredible sorrow my heart felt was just too much to bare. The work was exhausting leaving me without energy to battle the grief. Years went by. 

I accepted any type of job change that would increase my career because I wanted to feel valued. I needed to find a place for the motherly love and care spent on my child for nearly 18 years. Work became that for me. I moved from Michigan, Indiana, Atlanta and finally Florida because change kept me busy. Now life “fast forward” has slowed down since retirement and I am struggling to feel valued. Alone with these new feelings of being inadequate at life. Sitting here wondering how it happened. It happened because I pushed it away by working. I avoided grief like the plague. And now in retirement, grief is ever present but different.

I’ve never had a problem with being alone (by myself). Feeling lonely, is altogether different. I’ve never felt so lonely on this journey as I do right now. I really don’t have someone to talk with who would understand. Therapy over the years has helped but this I’m afraid is something I’m going to have to battle out on my own. In hindsight, retiring may have been a mistake. My work friends, many were closer to my age, made me laugh and created a space for me to sit in that didn’t sound or feel like grief. Now I’m facing it straight on, alone. 

Because I’ve moved so much over the years, I really don’t have close friends that live nearby, especially closer to my age. I’ve heard that making friends as you get older can be hard and I couldn’t agree more. It’s been very hard. I’ve always been a young soul who didn’t have much in common with those my own age. Now don’t get me wrong, I love and adore the people in my life now. They make me laugh and make life tolerable on days when I’m not at my best. They simply don’t have the life experiences I’ve had and talking about those experiences and how to manage them is something I need. I need to hear from people who’ve walked through the fire.

Retirement has complicated my grief.  The multitude of feelings that come from retiring from a successful career, like: getting older, recognizing my own mortality and seeking to find value, have also complicated my grief journey. The sum totality of loss has evolved into a new grief. It feels like the two worlds have collided and finding a way to talk about those feelings sits at the top of my list. I’ve never been one to “chat” in grief support groups because I always felt like I had a handle on things. But the unfortunate truth is, I do not. It’s hard to look at yourself and come to the realization that you don’t have it all together. You don’t have all the answers. That is new to me. 

Until next time

M

A Mother’s Poem

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Written By Mal Moss (2007)

Where has my girl gone?

For once she was in her room,

laughing on the phone, and

now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

For once she was dancing and singing,

loving and laughing at me,

now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

For she once needed me,

to fix her hair, pick out her clothes

Show her the way, now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

The one that I cared for

24-7, 365 days, 17-3/4 years.

The one who cared so much,

for others, but got so little in return.

Now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

Who showed us how to love,

unconditional without barriers.

Who wished to be normal, like

her friends, to be loved.

Now she is gone.

Where has my girl gone?

You see my friends,

she is in the arms of God,

Where she needs to be, she

deserves to be, where she

no longer is subject to the

cruelties of this world.

@griefblessings

Dreams Extinguished

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When a child dies so too does a parent’s dreams of what could have been. The dreams they had for their child. Dreams of success, dreams of weddings, dreams of grandchildren, dreams of a long-term relationship filled with great memories.

When Brittany died, I mourned so much more than her death. I mourned all the dreams that were not meant to be. That part of my mourning journey has taken the longest to work through and I find the most heartbreaking. I don’t think I’ll ever get through this part of the journey. Each time I see something on social media or in person about a mom and daughter’s relationship. Some event that occurred or a shared success, I fold into a mess.

The feeling that comes over me feels like a heart breaking all over again. I know some of you who follow my blog understand this all too well. We all had these dreams for our child(ren) and we live in a world where we constantly are exposed to friends, family or stranger scenarios where we dreamt one day we’d be. I continue to revisit this topic because it is the one area that I don’t believe will ever be resolved.

I’ll be honest here – this desire for my child died twice for me. When my daughter become deathly ill at 11 months of age, and the diagnosis and long journey back to health was the first of many dreams shattered and that life would not be normal for her again. A new normal began that day and those dreams had to be adjusted. As the years went on, it seemed that the dreams went through continual adjustment based on what was her long-term prognosis.

Always believing that she could still live somewhat of a normal life, however what surrounded us was what we understood could not be.

Death brought it all to an end. With the stopping of her heartbeat so did the dreams. A part of my life’s dreams died too. A part of my heart ripped to shreds.

Eighteen years have passed and those dreams still remain in my heart because the pain and memories I feel continues to haunt me. Painful reminders surround me of what I lost and what she could have been.

While I have reconciled her death; I remain steadfast that she would have been an amazing adult, mother and friend. That makes me smile.

 

Until next time,

M

Getting Quite

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I was reading a chapter in Savannah Guthrie’s book “Mostly What God Does” where she discusses how one might miss hearing God’s voice. I feel like it’s always there, but sometimes the noise in our lives makes it hard to hear. After reading this chapter of her book, I thought to myself, that is so very true. If you think about the daily tugs and pulls for our thoughts, time and activities like scrolling endlessly for hours, can be hard to hear our own internal voice, let alone God’s voice.

One day soon after my daughter passed away and grief was consuming me I cried out to God. To take it all away. I pleaded. Yet the questioning, longing for answers remained for months. I continued  burying myself and my grief through my work. I took care of others, so that I could avoid taking care of myself.

I struggled so often with “why” and if my daughter was ok. Was she in heaven. Then I had several dreams. Brittany came to me 2-3 times over a period of a couple of years and to tell me she was ok. That it was all going to be ok. I now recognize that was God speaking to me in a way that I would listen. He heard my crying out and through my daughter, he responded. Or did he….

Savannah goes on in chapter 8 to talk about how can we determine if it’s our own internal voice or the voice of God. She explained it wasn’t easy for her and that resonated with me. I don’t think it’s an easy discernment but rather a quiet moment when all the noise has given way to the quiet voice of God coming through. Those moments don’t seem to happen often because we are so very busy doing life.

The Cleveland Clinic defines meditation as a practice that involves focusing or clearing of your mind using a combination of mental and physical techniques.

I thought in my retirement and through my writing, that would lead to getting more quiet. To have more time to focus on meditation and clarity. Yet, I don’t do it often enough. Not sure if it’s because I’m afraid of what thoughts may come to mind and if I’ll understand them or even like them.

What I do understand from my own personal experience and from reading Savannah’s book, is that an intimate relationship in the quiet may be what we all need to hear God’s voice or message. Perhaps it was God who heard my cries and spoke to me through dreams of my daughter. I’d like to think so.

On my next post, I’ll share a presentation I did many years ago on medication and key tips on getting quiet so that you can free your mind of the constant noise of life.

Until next time,

M

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/articles/17906-meditation

Mostly What God Does by Savannah Guthrie is in most bookstores and online

Book Conversation

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You will seek me and find me – Jeremiah 29:13

I mentioned this a few months ago that I wanted to blog through Savannah Guthrie’s book “Mostly What God Does”. I have started that journey this week and while I’m not done reading the book; I did feel compelled to share something that stopped me in my thoughts and sent me back to the moment my daughter died. The trauma of it all. The gravity of it all.

He prays through groans too deep for words. – Romans 8:26

He does our prayer in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs and our aching groans. – Romans 8:26

Wordless sighs and aching groans. Who does that resonate with? It sure did with me. In the early hours, days, weeks and months after Brittany died all I could muster is crying, constant sighing and groaning as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. Which if I’m being honest her death felt like a blow to the chest.

In hindsight, I do believe God heard me, but my pain was so profound, I wasn’t always feeling it. I felt betrayed by God. That he must hate me so much to take my only child. I know that is strong language and now 18 years later, I don’t believe it. But I do still question why. And on some rare days, I say “what could I have ever done to deserve this?” But those days are far and few between and now I’m just left with questioning. It’s unacceptable to say “God’s will”. I implore anyone to never say that to a grieving mother or parent.

My fellow christian friends/family did say that to me and in reflection, it told me they were ignorant of God’s pure love. Love is not demonstrated by religious beliefs not founded in God’s pure love. It is not from the compassionate God.

“Rooted and established in love” – Ephesians 3:17

“Now remain in my love. – John 15:9

“Love your neighbor as yourself” – Mark 12:31

My faith has been impacted by ill meaning christians who have said or demonstrated un-Jesus like behaviors and words. In order to restore, rebuild and live out my faith, I must return to that “child-like” faith where God and I are connected. Savannah wrote this comment in her book and I’ll leave it here.

God’s feelings for us are unshakable. Our feelings about God have nothing to do with or how He feels for us. – Savannah Guthrie “Mostly What God Does”

Until next time,

M

Grief Blessings

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After my daughter passed away in 2006, I documented my grief journey on my blog not thinking how it would evolve over time. During those early days/weeks/months, I just needed to push the heaviness of my daughter’s death off my heart. Needing to breathe and reduce the immense pressure that constantly weighed on me. Below is an excerpt from my book describing how I felt about conveying my thoughts and feelings:

As I reflect on the details of Brittany’s life and death in the previous chapters, I wonder how I can possibly convey the depth of feeling, the overwhelming grief and sadness I experienced, in a meaningful way. The truth is that words aren’t enough. They can never be enough to express love or despair, joy or heartbreak. Yet words are all we have. – Chapter 7 Grief Blessings

I wrote often about crying during those early days and weeks. Despite my efforts to suppress my grief so that I could function, I fell to the floor on many occasions unable to control the waterboarding of grief. Returning to work seemed futile as that was an indicator of moving on and that I could not comprehend. Going back to work felt as though I was moving on and making sense of that did not come easy. After three weeks, I was able to return to the job I loved so much and it was the beginning of some type of normalcy. 

Those early days were a struggle for me. I often walked around with a lump in my throat “grief” and it kept me from eating. Feeling as though recognizing the grief would lead to a complete collapse, I stuffed it. Only to get home from a long day and barely making into my front door before falling to the floor in complete grief-filled agony. This went on for months.

Grief doesn’t care that you’re in Michael’s. It doesn’t care that you’re in Cabo San Lucas, surrounded by the beauty of God’s creation. It doesn’t care that you’re in a movie theater, or at work, or among friends and family. It tugs at that rope when it wants to, hoping it will catch you off balance and drag you back into despair. There are no rules with this magnitude of loss. Grief takes you where it wishes, when it wishes, and however long it wishes. – Chapter 7 Grief Blessings

My journals and blog have allowed me to reflect upon my grief journey and most importantly to see the progress I’ve made over the years. Grief changes who you are and who you become. There are no rules. Grief is our teacher. The lessons we learn along the way form who we are on the other side of loss. Grief teaches us that there is pain in loving. 

My book “Grief Blessings” available on Amazon. Personalized and signed books available via the link on the right side of the blog page.

Until next time,

M

Holiday Grief

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It’s easy to look away or stay busy to keep the swell of grief that sits in my throat on any given day during the holiday season. For the most part that has been my way of avoiding the gravity of her absence these past 18 years. No one realizes just how hard it is to walk through the holidays without her. Visiting family celebrations knowing she won’t be there or that she isn’t even a fleeting thought. Then I am reminded that was my old life and I am very aware that I can’t stay there nor can I afford to ignore what is in front of me. Love is all around me and I am forever thankful for that because it has given me a breath of life.

I have found balance in both worlds and it works – but it’s hard, don’t be mistaken, and at times it can be extremely hard. I stay busy, I work hard and I play hard – why, because it is better than the misery I’m sure would exist if I did not. Ninety-nine percent of the time I am not miserable, I am happy – love and joy has brought me to this point. I am forever grateful for that. I am also grateful for the life before because my time with Brittany, yes, her name is music to my ears. She taught me so much about life and love. I am a better person because of her time here on this earth.

As you navigate this holiday season as a griever, it is my hope that you take pause to say their name, to smile at a memory, to write it down and then to take in a deep breath and let it out. Step into the present and love on all of those around you who need you to be present. It is the greatest gift we can give those who are walking along side us.

Until next time,

M

Doubt and Grief

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The thought of doubt has been plaguing me for some time now and for the most part it’s been a struggle to piece it out and connect it to something specific. 

What I come to realize that my feelings of doubt come from many situations, people and experiences. But they are all connected to who I am and how I react to certain situations or people. Now I will say with age, my filter has faded and my ability to stay quiet and not speak up has diminished. On some days, I say my give a damn is busted. Perhaps it’s because of the pain and sorrow I’ve had throughout my life. Maybe its age. In fact, maybe it’s because I’ve let others dictate who I am or who I am not.

For many years, I listened to others who influenced my thoughts and feelings about certain viewpoints. It probably wasn’t until my 40’s when I grew a backbone and said, “no more”. No longer will I let others dictate my worth. I am more than this body. I am a thinking, feeling and smart, well educated woman. In my 40’s and 50’s I found myself. The world opened up and I took it all in. Succeeded in my career. Grew as a person. I knew who I was and what I wanted.

At the same time, I was deep in my grief journey after losing my daughter who was my whole world. While some well-meaning people thought that telling me it was time to move on or that she was in a better place; it in fact, did more damage than it did good. I began to doubt my response to grief. Was I overreacting? I questioned everything. 

After a couple of years under my belt, I began to rise up again and found ways to celebrate Brittany, but also honor who I was in that moment. What was my purpose during the next phase of my life. I loved my work, traveled a lot and settled into a life that I could control. That is the magic word here. I controlled my own destiny. I made my own decisions and I was great at my job. I felt needed. I felt validated. I felt important. Probably for the first time in my life.

In looking back, that seems unfortunate but the reality was I did not have an easy life before. Life was incredibly hard and at times burdensome to point that I wasn’t sure why I was here. It wasn’t until my 30’s when I became successful at my job and had Brittany that I felt I had purpose. It all came crashing down when my mom died in 1988 (the year Brittany was born) and in 2006 when Brittany died. 

A few days ago, I came across a video interview I did for my church in Indiana about a year after Brittany died. I looked at that woman (me) and said I don’t even know her now. In that moment, I grieved for her. I had lost her or a part of her and never really knew it. Until I saw that video. It hit me like a rock. She is gone. I don’t even look like her now. She was young and vibrant. Now I am grey and more seasoned. Grief has seasoned me in a way that at times I don’t even recognize who I have become. 

I have become someone who I don’t know and need to time to figure out who I am and what future I have left. What I want to do with it. What truly matters. Right now, I do not know. This is what doubt does to you. You think you got it figured out. When in reality, you’re just going along with the motions to appease others. This is what grief and doubt does to you. You walk through life in a fog and some days it’s clearer and other days, you can’t see anything. Even the obvious seems not obvious. And when that gets pointed out by others, doubt creeps back in and your left back where you started as a young person; doubting yourself, what you bring to the table and is any of it worth it.

It’s time to stand up for me and what I want. That is the only way I can get back to feeling adequate and filled with purpose. I will no longer listen to the voices of others tell me otherwise. Grief, sorrow and life can tear you down; but it is in the growing, believing and honoring who you are, will you be able to carry on and being the best version of you that you can be.

Until next time,

M

Grief Writing

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For many years now I have recommended to everyone that writing, whether it be in a handwritten journal or on-line blog, can be cathartic for a grieving soul. It has always been an outlet for me to express my pain and sorrow. In the early days there was a lot of pain and sorrow. It needed an outlet. I was motivated to write because I could feel the words pour out of my broken heart and onto the page. I got some level of comfort with each word.

As a seasoned griever, I find the words don’t come as easy. I have nothing new to say. I struggle to write anything that might be helpful to anyone. And then it dawned on me. I have been avoiding my grief for a long time. I stay so busy. I work hard. I play hard. I avoid hard. I remember how difficult this journey has been and the toll it’s taken on my heart and soul over the years. Quite frankly, I’m tired of it. Problem is I can’t run away from it.

Trust me, I’ve tried and all I’ve done is push it away. It’s still there. lying deep within my soul waiting for a time to resurface. This is where I can control how and when it happens. If I wait until it chooses to resurface and it comes as a complete surprise, it can be devastatingly difficult to overcome. But if I acknowledge it and express it through writing, I choose how the grief is released. I choose.

I can’t tell you how important it is for you to walk this journey with intention. Choose to write. Choose to talk. Choose to live. Choose to honor. Choose to overcome. Choose to comfort. Choose to bless. Choose to breathe out life.

Until next time,

Mal