My friend has her twins angelversary coming up this week. So, I started thinking.
How do you remember?
It's easy when it's your own loss. You curl up and cry, or look through scrapbooks and photos. You spend the day reflecting on your heart, and the missing pieces.
But what do you do when it's not your baby? Do you send a card? Do you call and say "Hey, what can I do for you today?" Do you just simply offer to listen to their story? Is any of this acceptable?
Quite simply, the answer is yes.
It's better to acknowledge their loss, than to ignore it. Ignoring it can send the wrong message, even if the intentions are good. Ignoring it might say "hey, you should just get over this."
If you can't do anything other than have a cup of tea and listen to your friend tell you about her baby or babies, then do that. That will be just what your friend needs.
I do have to say, though, I haven't really had any friends that suffered a loss until this past year. I guess all of my "wisdom" comes from what I wish people would have said and done with me. I suffered in silence, year after year. Even my best friend told me I should be "past this" by now. Some years, I could get out of bed and act completely fine. Other years, all I could do was lay there and wish I was dead, because at least then I'd get to hold her, to see my Emily one more time.
No one ever acknowledged it, unless I mentioned it first. Sometimes, friends would call me up and be all cheerful and ask to do something fun. That usually made me angry. I didn't allow myself to fall deep into despair all the time ... but I did allow myself two days a year to just be heartbroken. I thought that was reasonable.
These past few weeks, I've gotten involved with an organisation called Molly Bears. At first it was just to donate, then to order a bear, then to donate and sponsor a friend so she could have her bears... then I talked to the creator of Molly Bears and that's when I knew that this was a gift. This was a gift I could give to other women, other babyloss moms, so they would NOT have to suffer alone. I have only made four bears, working on ten more presently. But every bear has a story. So far, every story has made me cry. My heart breaks that there are women who need bears.
I made a bear just this past week for a woman who knew her baby was not going to make it. My heart broke over and over making her bear. I cried many tears for this precious baby and her family. But the result was a grateful mom who, just maybe, gained a small amount of comfort from my labor of love.
But my heart is uplifted because *I* have a purpose. My GRIEF has a purpose. My grief can be channeled to help these women hold their angels and heal. It can help them remember. It can help people who come to their house see that it's OK to talk about it.
It's OKAY to remember.
So I sent my friend a card to let her know that I will remember. I was not able to know James and Sophia, but they were very loved and very wanted. So I will remember their day and I will let my friend know that I am here. Here for whatever she might need. Tea? I'm there. Tissues? I've a pocketful.
I won't forget them.
How do you remember?
It's easy when it's your own loss. You curl up and cry, or look through scrapbooks and photos. You spend the day reflecting on your heart, and the missing pieces.
But what do you do when it's not your baby? Do you send a card? Do you call and say "Hey, what can I do for you today?" Do you just simply offer to listen to their story? Is any of this acceptable?
Quite simply, the answer is yes.
It's better to acknowledge their loss, than to ignore it. Ignoring it can send the wrong message, even if the intentions are good. Ignoring it might say "hey, you should just get over this."
If you can't do anything other than have a cup of tea and listen to your friend tell you about her baby or babies, then do that. That will be just what your friend needs.
I do have to say, though, I haven't really had any friends that suffered a loss until this past year. I guess all of my "wisdom" comes from what I wish people would have said and done with me. I suffered in silence, year after year. Even my best friend told me I should be "past this" by now. Some years, I could get out of bed and act completely fine. Other years, all I could do was lay there and wish I was dead, because at least then I'd get to hold her, to see my Emily one more time.
No one ever acknowledged it, unless I mentioned it first. Sometimes, friends would call me up and be all cheerful and ask to do something fun. That usually made me angry. I didn't allow myself to fall deep into despair all the time ... but I did allow myself two days a year to just be heartbroken. I thought that was reasonable.
These past few weeks, I've gotten involved with an organisation called Molly Bears. At first it was just to donate, then to order a bear, then to donate and sponsor a friend so she could have her bears... then I talked to the creator of Molly Bears and that's when I knew that this was a gift. This was a gift I could give to other women, other babyloss moms, so they would NOT have to suffer alone. I have only made four bears, working on ten more presently. But every bear has a story. So far, every story has made me cry. My heart breaks that there are women who need bears.
I made a bear just this past week for a woman who knew her baby was not going to make it. My heart broke over and over making her bear. I cried many tears for this precious baby and her family. But the result was a grateful mom who, just maybe, gained a small amount of comfort from my labor of love.
But my heart is uplifted because *I* have a purpose. My GRIEF has a purpose. My grief can be channeled to help these women hold their angels and heal. It can help them remember. It can help people who come to their house see that it's OK to talk about it.
It's OKAY to remember.
So I sent my friend a card to let her know that I will remember. I was not able to know James and Sophia, but they were very loved and very wanted. So I will remember their day and I will let my friend know that I am here. Here for whatever she might need. Tea? I'm there. Tissues? I've a pocketful.
I won't forget them.
2 comments:
Thank you love ;-) ;-) With the strength of hearts like yours, we will try and celebrate their short time on earth rather than mourn what could have been. Our babies truly make us what we are today and have brought us together and for that I am thankful.
I love you. <3
And, for what it's worth, I am always here to listen. I did not know you then, but I know you now. And I think you are an amazing, strong and beautiful woman and mom.
Post a Comment