I read something lovely a few weeks ago.  I am unable to credit it but it was on the subject of child loss. The writer used an analogy.  It’s as if the family is on a path in the forest and one of the children has run ahead to find a clearing for a family picnic.  The rest of the family will catch up, but in the meantime the child has a beautiful spot picked out and has spread the blanket. I don’t know why, but this image really resonated with me. It’s probably because when the kids were little it was just normal for one or two to run ahead.  I can remember the laughter and the joy of those family outings.   When I am having a bit of a low moment it actually does help me to imagine this. It is hard to imagine in earthly terms an upside to the loss of my son.  Obviously, the ideal scenario would be for all of my kids to be happy and healthy.  However, there have been...

I haven’t posted very much in the last couple of months.  It has not been because I don’t have anything to write.  Mostly it has been because there are so many feelings. It is hard to write about all of these feelings without seeming like my mind is all over the place. The reality is my mind  has  been all over the place.  June 1st marks the 8 month mark since my son’s passing.  Y’all, there is a lot to process. It came to me today that this experience has been like being in the ocean in a rowboat.  Back in October, I didn’t have any clue how to use a set of oars.  I wasn’t in sync with my rowing.  I felt like I was going around in circles.  Girl, get it together.  You have to learn how to use the oars. I figured out how to get a little rhythm to my rowing, but my body wasn’t used to so much strain.  So I would quit rowing, float for a little...

I stumbled upon an article on the history of mourning clothes a couple of weeks ago.  Then I spent an inordinate amount of time in a Google abyss reading article after article.  I have been thinking about what I read since then and I thought some of you might find it interesting. In Victorian times the custom was for women to wear to wear black for two years after the loss of a loved one.  The first year the fabric was of a matte finish; the second year black satin or black lace could be added. After the two year period, women went into “half-mourning”; they could begin to add mauve or lavender to their wardrobe.  Jewelry was to be kept to a minimum with a black matte finish. Men in Victorian times wore black pants and coats.  As they re-entered the work world they would wear a black armband on the sleeve.  Even Victorian children were dressed in black for a specified...

My first Mother’s Day was in 1987.  I was three months away from giving birth to my first baby.  The anticipation about who this little baby would be, what his personality would be like and how his arrival would turn a couple into a family was exciting. Everywhere I look in my home I am reminded of his existence in our family.  I open a drawer and I find a CD of a music artist he liked.  I open a closet and I see remnants of a life that included baseball and tennis trophies, high school art portfolios, and clothes that will never be worn again.  I open small boxes that I have stuffed with Wolf Photo envelopes full of photographs from his childhood and it transports me to a moment in time.  It is virtually impossible to look in any corner, cabinet, or closet without seeing a trace of his life.  He is literally everywhere I look.  I don’t go looking for these things; they...