The Advice I Wish I Got After My Children Died

When my daughter died, I received a lot of advice. I found people do not know what to say. They default to the things they have been conditioned to say during these times. It came from many different sources, most of which had never lost a child. The advice came from good intentions, but it was hollow. Not at all what I needed at that moment.

When someone would tell me it would be OK, I was angry. They would say everything happens for a reason and I should trust God. Then Lee died! More anger. Then there was, “Give it time. Time heals all wounds.” It doesn’t. Then there were the people who tried to facilitate a connection. “Here, call Jane. She lost her daughter, too”. I was not in a place to talk to other bereaved parents and hear all about their experiences. Everything felt like pressure toward a direction someone else thought was best for me. Someone who had never stood where I was standing.

If you haven’t noticed, there is a lot of anger in grief. It is unavoidable so you should just learn to embrace it early. It made me feel like I was going crazy. Everything made me mad. I hated their advice, yet I found myself starting to wonder if I should listen. It didn’t resonate, but I was desperate. So, I started judging my grief. It made me question everything I was doing and feel as if I was doing it all wrong. That made me angrier.

Then I had a breakthrough. A grief breakthrough.

I don’t recall the cause or the source, but I suddenly understood what I needed to do. It all made sense.

My epiphany? My grief is only about me. The journey I walk is my own. No one can tell me how to do it. I simply must do whatever I feel is right in the moment for me. It is not my job to help make others feel better. I cannot be concerned about how they are doing. I know it sounds harsh and unfeeling. However, there is an “I” in grief. As there should be! It is the only way because MY daughter died! My son died! This was about Paisley and Lee and me. No one else. The rest of the world has their own path to follow and they must figure it out on their own.

It seemed so simple. Selfish, but simple.

Since my children died, I have changed the way I talk to someone who has experienced loss. I never tell them I am sorry, that is the worst thing to say when someone dies. I am no longer afraid to say, “That really sucks!” It does. Then I tell them I am thinking about them and sending love. I really am. Love is all that matters. If I feel the urge to share advice, I simply tell them their grief is unique to them. They must do whatever is right for them and not compare themselves to anyone else. Don’t worry about what anyone else tells you. Just follow your gut.

This advice would have saved me so much agony.

So, on this Thanksgiving, I am focusing on how they lived and the joy they brought to me. She was always, always grateful. I learned how to be more so myself because of her. And her laugh wasn’t just a laugh, Nay, nay. It was a snort. An infectious snort. Lee would simply say “That’s great”. But it still sucks. Just typing this last line made me smile.

Hug your kids and significant others. Wishing you all peace as we travel through the next six weeks of holidays and memories. Stay safe.