What I've learned

The last couple of years have not been easy.  

My daughter died of breast cancer in 2014 at the age of 31, and left behind three small children.  When we suffer such a great loss, the people in our lives want desperately to help out. Sometimes the things they say or do with good intentions, end up hurting more than helping.  I decided to sit down and write some of the things I have discovered over the last two years.  Some have to do with the grieving process, some with just life in general.  

I am sure there are many more that could be added, but these were the most significant things that I have learned:





1. Don't tell someone that you know how they feel.
I know it sounds like it would be a comfort, but it really isn't.  I had someone tell me this after losing my daughter.  This person had never lost a child.  They never even had children.  They had loss, and I know it was tremendous, but they did not know how I felt.  Any loss is heartbreaking, but they are not all the same.  Losing a parent, or another loved one, is not the same as losing a child that you carried inside you.  And even losing a young child is a different type of loss, than losing an adult child.  I realize that they were only trying to bring me comfort, and I appreciate that, but in reality, it left a bitter taste.  So it is better left unsaid.

2. Say nothing.
Many times--in fact most times--it is enough to just be there.  A shoulder to cry on.  Arms to hold you close. There really are no words that help at this time.  And saying the wrong thing can sometimes hurt a lot.  A simple 'I am sorry and I am here for you' means so much to a grieving person.  Also, I believe in God and healing, but right after a loss is not the time to quote scriptures.  There is too much raw hurt and anger going on to hear you or possibly even believe those words at that time.  So, usually silence and presence is best, especially the first few days after a loss. 

3. Don't disappear.
Watching someone you love in emotional pain is never easy.  Especially if there really isn't anything physical you can do to help them.  And unfortunately, people become uneasy with not knowing what to do, or what to say.  Sometimes it is just easiest to distance yourself from them. Please, please don't do that.  Trust me, if someone is grieving, and you walk away, it is so much harder on them.  It is like another loss in their lives. Now they don't have their support group to help them walk through such a difficult time. They have to walk it alone.  And we were never meant to do that.  So stick around, even if it seems like you aren't helping, you are.

4. Do.
There are many things to do after the loss of a loved one.  Sometimes our minds are just so cluttered with pain, we can't remember to do certain things, or just don't want to do them, or possibly just can't do them.  If you know someone going through this, offer to do something. Maybe they need someone to watch their pets.  Maybe they need someone to go pick up relatives at the airport.  Perhaps they just need someone to drive them around the day of the funeral, so they don't have to think about it. We had friends do those things for us--and what a blessing it was!  It doesn't have to be something big to be a help.  Just a meal, or flowers. Whatever it is, it will be appreciated.

5. Staying busy just delays grief.
As soon as I got back home from my daughter's funeral, I jumped right into some church activities. We had many things going on at the time, and I just knew that busyness was the key to keep my mind off of my hurt. So my husband and I did a lot of planning during the week for our Wednesday night meals at church.  I was smiling, I was busy, this mourning process was going to be much easier than I thought.  Of course, I had already grieved a lot the last few months of her life, just seeing what she was going through.  Perhaps my pain was mostly behind me.  I am not saying I didn't miss her, I did- terribly, but I didn't hurt like I thought I would. What I didn't realize at the time was, I was desperately trying to avoid my grief by staying busy. After a few months, I found out that it doesn't work that way.  It hit me like a truck one day.  I was okay one day, and the next, I was in hysterics.  I had lost my daughter, and she wasn't coming back. My baby girl was gone. I fell into the bottom of a deep pit that I am still climbing my way out of after all this time. You can't avoid it, our human response is to grieve our losses.  We are wired that way.  And it is healthier to just let it happen and go through it, than to try and avoid it.  I am still dealing with depression after all this time, but I am learning how to process things better now.

6. Take care of yourself.
I can't stress this one enough.  All the months I was driving back and forth to Dallas from Houston to take Amanda to chemo, I didn't take care of myself.  Since her death, I haven't cared to do so.  The last few months, my body is showing signs of neglect.  Horrible eating habits and lack of exercise are bad at any age, but when you hit your 50s, it is much harder to reverse the effects of those bad choices.  And I don't just mean weight gain.  Things just don't work the way they used to.  Blood sugar problems, joint pain, fatigue.  Our bodies are meant to last much longer than 50 years, but we have to help them out.  Don't neglect your body during your grief. And seek help if you need it- with a doctor or counselor.  Sometimes it helps to talk to others that have been where you are.  And there is no shame if you need anti-depressants for a time to help you get through.  I have chosen not to go that route, but it might have been a little easier if I had.

7. Give yourself time.
Grieving is different for everyone.  Some people take much longer to deal with a loss than others. And we all deal with it differently.  You could be driving down the road and hear a song, and suddenly you are sobbing and can't stop. Or, you could be getting ready for church one morning on Easter, something small happens such as a broken flower pot, and you find yourself hysterical and not able to calm down, so you don't make it to church.  I have experienced both of these.  It took me almost an hour before I realized I wasn't crying about the broken pot. Holidays and birthdays are the worst, even two years later.  Don't put a time limit on your grief.

8. Spend time.
For some reason, we like to think we are invincible, and that we will live forever.  At least in the sense that we don't spend quality time with those we love.  But you never know when an accident will happen and suddenly that loved one is no longer there to spend time with.  It is a little different when a terminal illness is involved.  You start to understand your mortality a little better.  I spent many hours of time with Amanda those last few months of her life, and yet I have a lot of guilt that it wasn't enough.  One of the most memorable times happened only days before she passed.  Amanda was a huge football fan.  Let's just say that was something I passed down to her. While in the hospital the last week of her life, we watched the NFL draft together. I had bought snacks, and tried to make it a special occasion.  She was feeling so bad, but she tried to enjoy it--most likely for my sake.  She was in so much pain, and yet she wanted to make me happy. So that night is a good memory of quality time we had together. Spend time with those you love, because one day, one of you will be gone.

9. Take lots of pictures.
This is a big regret of mine.  I just didn't take many pictures the last few months of her life. Perhaps I didn't want to remember her that way.  But once she was gone, I would have given almost anything to have a video of her talking to me.  There are none.  Only a few older videos of her in basically a cameo appearance exist.  And that last week, I so wanted to take a video of her, but I thought it would upset her. She refused to believe that this cancer would take her life, and if you tried to mention anything to her regarding that, she would shut down.  So I knew if I asked for a video, she would think that I believed she was going to die and be upset.  I didn't want that, so I kept silent.  And I still regret it to this day.  So take lots of pictures and videos of your loved ones when you see them, because you never know when it will be the last time.

10. Talk about the hard stuff.
I mentioned above how Amanda wouldn't speak of death.  I did ask her once during her illness if she was ready to meet the Lord.  She said yes she was, but she didn't believe she would die from this, so I didn't mention it again.   I was glad to know she was ready--and that is the most important thing--but I didn't get to talk to her about her funeral, because she wouldn't speak about it.  She would go silent if anyone suggested this would take her life.  So that conversation never happened.  I would liked to have known what she wanted. Her service was beautiful, but it was what I wanted, not what she wanted.  So, if you find yourself on either side of this--you are sick, or your loved one is--talk about the hard stuff.  We can believe that God will heal us, but we do not know that He will do it here. Sometimes He doesn't. That is why it is important to have the difficult conversations--about death and eternity.  Because everyone spends eternity somewhere. 

11. Forgive.
We all have times when our loved ones hurt us.  Humans make mistakes and bad choices, and others get hurt.  It is what we choose to do in that moment that will make or break a relationship. We can choose to hold a grudge, or we can choose to forgive.  Forgiveness isn't always easy, but it is necessary if we want to live a life without bitterness.  And you never know when you will lose someone that you love.  If that happens while you have a rift between you, there will be regret for the rest of your life.  So forgive, quickly.

12. Love.
And last, but certainly not least, love.  Tell the people in your life that you love them.  Show them how much they mean to you.  Because life is indeed short.  Sometimes much shorter than it should be....