Our seventh Thanksgiving without Andrew. I miss him. I still have days when the grief takes my breath away. But those days are rare and far between. The missing is more of a dull ache than searing pain. His name is mentioned. His siblings remember. His friends remember. We remember. But even if no one…
I wrote this to a friend earlier today. He was my son’s friend. He is now my friend. And he’s grieving the loss of yet another friend. I thought I’d share it with you. Are you grateful for the grief and trials in your life? If so, why? Please share in the comments.
A year or so ago I went to visit a friend who had just lost her son. I felt like I was to share two things with her. One was private, just for her ears. The other was “We all grieve differently. You can grieve any way you want so long as you don’t sin.”…
A few months after The Accident that took my twenty-year-old son’s life, I had a series of dreams. In the first one Andrew was dancing before the Throne. (He was a professional dancer when he died.) There was a bright spotlight on him. My view was a closeup of him dancing though I could tell…
Are you questioning God? In our trials and grieve, it’s okay to question Him. He will answer.
Another year has passed. I realize I am not the first mother to lose her son. Eve grieved Abel. Mary grieved Jesus. I will not be the last. Many others will walk this road. But knowing these things does not make losing my Andrew easier. What has made this loss bearable is knowing my son…
I’m in Denver for a few weeks with a loved one. She needs my help right now. She’s been ill and is in a rehab hospital. I’ve been here four of the last six weeks. I’ll be here for weeks at a time the next few months. I am here by myself. This is going…
Originally posted on kathleenbduncan:
At a church social Sunday night, a kind man tried to comfort me about Andrew’s death. He knew that this past week was the anniversary of The Accident and knew that those special days can be hard. He was trying to be kind. I suppose it seemed odd to him that…
Middle of the night. Night time. Dark time. Hardest of hard times in grief. So many dark thoughts. So many memories. So many unfulfilled dreams. So much pain. So much loneliness. Nighy time. Dark time. No one there to listen to my cries. No one there to sooth my hurts. No one there to hold…
I wrote this a few years ago. It is still true. When others hurt, I am not to compare levels of pain. I am to love others and comfort them with the same comfort I received for God. via Do they know what grief is?
