When Someone Loses a Child

Dear friends,

I hope you will forgive this digression from my normal blog content. This can be a sensitive subject, and if you don't want to read it, I completely understand. I'll return to my tales of a tv-free summer and other light-hearted topics again soon.

Almost 5 years ago, my husband and I lost an infant child. We were fortunate to have people come alongside us who had gone through a similar experience. As the wife (now one of my best friends) and I talked, one of the things we joked about doing was writing a book of things not to say to a grieving parent. We haven't done that (yet), but I wanted to give you some general thoughts for handling this circumstance.

1. Don't feel compelled to share another story of loss with the parent(s). Whether a child endures a long-term illness or a sudden and unexpected loss, chances are the parents are in shock. It's not normal to outlive your children, plain and simple. The last thing a grieving parent needs to hear is *another* story.

2. It's OK to say a heartfelt "I'm sorry" and leave it at that. You don't have to have anything else to say.

3. If you offer to help in some way, make it specific. Offer to take one or more siblings for a play-date. Offer to take them to lunch. Ask if they need help taking the siblings back and forth to school or extracurricular activities. A generic "give me a call if you need a hand" will seldom be answered.

4. If you were not close to the family and do not know specific details, resist the urge to repeat what you hear. Remember that, unlike the characters you see on TV, these are real people with real feelings. Grieving only becomes more difficult when you hear half-truths (or outright incorrect information) surrounding your circumstances.

5. Avoid labeling the parent as "the person whose child just died." While it may be an easy identifier, it isn't a pleasant one. Trust me. Been there. Just don't do it.

6. Remember that grieving takes time. The year after a loss brings many "firsts" that the family walks through without their child (think holidays, birthdays, special occasions, you get the idea). A few weeks after losing a child, your life may be back to normal. The grieving family is still working on what the new "normal" will look like for them. If you really want to show your support and that you genuinely care, send them a note every month or two letting them know that you are thinking of/praying for them.

7. Let the grieving parent(s) dictate the depth of the conversation. They know what they are willing to or capable of talking about at a given moment. Some days are easier than others.

8. Be sensitive if you have a child that is the same gender and about the same age. You can unintentionally trigger some painful reminders of their loss. Let the grieving parent ask about your child instead of gushing about your child's latest accomplishment. It's great to be proud of your kids. Just think before you speak.

9. If you didn't know the family well before the loss, but think you can be of assistance in some specific way, work through a common third party, like a mutual friend or through your church. Understand that your offer to help may be answered with a "no." Don't take it personally, and let the family approach you. Respect the boundaries they establish.

All in all, the best advice I can offer you is to remember that losing a child shakes you to the core. Some things will never be as they were before.

Yes, We Had the TV on This Morning...

And I'm not apologizing for it, either.

It was the final space shuttle launch, and I wanted my girls to watch a bit of history in the making. I'll admit, I was more sentimental about it than I thought I would be. I wonder if my older daughter (my younger is too little) will remember where she was when she watched this launch -- the way I vividly remember where I was when I watched the first launch 30 years ago. I watched that launch on a TV in the basement of a house in Independence, Missouri. I still recall the address. The tile floor. A 25-inch console TV. History in the making. I wanted to go into space, too.

I believe the space shuttle is one of those things that will define my generation. The space shuttle saw the first female astronaut on a mission. We grieved as a nation when Challenger (taking the first teacher into space) exploded 73 seconds into its mission. We rejoiced when the program resumed again 2 years and 8 months later. I remember what I was doing when the news started to report that Columbia was not responding during re-entry, and the subsequent angst of a nation as yet another crew of 7 lost their lives pursuing the ultimate frontier. We are a resilient nation, and the shuttle continued to fly. Until today. If all goes according to plan, less than two weeks from now, we will watch Atlantis land for the final time.

And so, today, we turned the TV on to watch a bit of history. I hope to take my children to one of the museums that will serve as a new home to the remaining orbiters. I never got to watch a launch in person (will have to amend my bucket list), but I hope to share a bit of my childhood with them.

Is Summer Flying by for You?

It is for me. I can't believe we're in the last week of June. Soon we will have to start thinking about school supplies, school clothes, preschool for our youngest. Time seems to be moving exponentially. It seems like yesterday we were getting ready for Kindergarten. We're way past that now.

Unlike past summers, when I tried to squeeze in too much work and treated play time like it was a chore, I'm making a conscious decision to do fun things with my kids. Even if it's just a trip to the park or an hour at the pool. We're spending more dedicated time with friends. Finding opportunities to explore a city I've called home for almost 3/4 of my life. Discovering that carry-out pizza and watermelon can be just as fun as an elaborately-planned dinner. Letting blessings we would normally take for granted linger in our hearts and minds.

I don't think that unplugging from the TV resulted in all of this, but I do feel it was at least a catalyst. There is something encouraging about my youngest wanting to read a book with me. She snuggles in close. We giggle when I change the words to one of her favorites that she's memorized. She likes to stop me and spell some of the words, now.

My oldest is hounding me to go to the library because she doesn't have a book to read. Trust me - that wasn't happening last year. She would want to go to the library, but was speeding through her mandatory reading time to get back to the next TV show. She's developed a liking for mysteries (like her aunt), and she was thrilled to accompany a neighbor to the dog park the other day. When I was her age, we lived in an area that didn't have decent TV reception, and it was before cable and satellite were widespread options. She is experiencing (sort of) a summer like I used to have. A bit less complicated than the world makes it now. And she's gotten to enjoy a week of art camp. Tonight we will go to the finale so that she can proudly show us her accomplishments. I can't wait.

If you haven't done it yet, I encourage you to plan a couple of activities with the intention of creating memories. It doesn't have to be an elaborate vacation or the "perfect" picnic. Just grab your kids and head for the closest park. Or find a local festival this weekend. Or fire up the grill to make... s'mores. Just. Do. Something.

Time goes by too quickly.