A wife who loses a husband is called a widow. A husband who loses a wife is called a widower. A child who loses his parents is called an orphan. There is no word for a parent who loses a child.
Never in my young life did I ever imagine getting the word "bereaved" tattooed on my heart. But three years ago my life changed forever. My sweet 2 year old daughter, Olly Belle, went to be with the lord due to complications from Tay-Sachs disease.
I will be honest, the word "bereaved" has never really sat well with me. The word itself doesn't quite express how tragic and heartbreaking losing a child can be. It doesn't depict all the the love that remains and brims over a lifetime meanwhile the parents are on this side of heaven. It doesn't express the magnitude of the loss and reminders of each new loss as time continues and each celebration and holiday approaches.
So to combat our grieving hearts, my Husband and I choose to celebrate Olly's birthday every year. For us there is some rhythm to it:
1. Visiting the cemetery with fresh spring flowers. Cleaning up her headstone and allowing our children to blow bubbles and dance and play while we play Olly's song (Amadeo, by Ryan Stevenson).
2. We then visit "Rocket Park" across from the cemetery and let our kiddos play on the playground while we reflect, converse, and enjoy the spring weather.
3. When then throw a birthday party at our home (or Rocket park if the Minnesota weather cooperates). Usually this involves a meal, some cake, and ice cream. In lieu of gifts, we encourage our friends and family to donate to a local charity we have chosen. For Olly's third birthday we raised money to purchase and donate weighted blankets to the local children's hospital. On her fourth birthday we raised money to donate to a kids camp for siblings of children affected by Tay-Sachs disease. This year for her fifth birthday we asked our friends and family to donate newly purchased toys we will bring the local children's hospital, where the child life specialist team will provide the toys to the children who are undergoing treatment at the hospital.
Now all of this may sound bizarre to you. And if it does, you should be so lucky to not know the aching pain and grief of losing a child. You see, grief is a tricky little bugger. There is not a one size fits all approach to grief or how to welcome it, process it, and let it come and go with the seasons of life. Letting your grief bottle up until you are ready to blow like Mount Vesuvius is not the answer. Sometimes we have to let it out a little, and other times a whole lot!
I encourage you, especially if you are grieving the loss of a loved one, to trust your gut. If there is something you would like to do in honor of your loved one, or a party you would like to throw, or an event you would like to put on, and your heart is in it - then do it.
JUST DO IT!
I promise in the end you that you will feel so glad you did. Don't worry about what other's think, they are not in your shoes and may not even understand your "why". But I know there are so many people out there that sort of "get it" and will follow you and your grief wherever you both go.
There will be people at that party or event with their own joy and tears as they celebrate life and love along side of you. For they too have their own grief they are processing. And doing it together, with our community and close friends is one of the best things we can do together and support each other in. Knowing you are not alone in your grief walk is so impactful on the human spirit.
Now I cannot promise that every moment of your event or celebration will be filled with cheer. For example, Olly's first birthday in heaven we had a party, I made her a cake and we sang happy birthday together. By the end of the tune the room was full of tears and completely somber.
Not to mention, there was no sweet child on the other side of that cake to blow out the candles. All we had was an empty chair. What a way to kill the mood at what was a somewhat joyful party! No one wanted cake. With tears in my eyes and snot running down my nose, I struggled to blow out the candles. I cut up the cake and later some of us enjoyed it.
Lesson learned- no one in my family really wants to sing happy birthday to a loved one in heaven. It's too raw and heartbreaking. This year I briefly reminded my sister in law of this, we both chuckled quietly as we reflected, quick cut up the cake, scooped the ice cream, and served the plates to all of our close family and friends.
Grief is sort of like a grand science experiment. There will be moments of "oh yeah, that was great, let's do that again". And then there will also be moments of "that sucked, or didn't work as I imagined, or was too much too soon for my own comfort right now". You will never know how amazing (or sometimes how awkward) that party, event, or celebration will be. But it is worth it a thousand times over.
Romans 12:2 says "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."
Let's be honest, our world doesn't do grief well. Our world doesn't really do most feelings well. Let's not turn to the world for direction, answers, or how to hold and carry our grief with grace and softness. Let's turn to the King of Kings for his wisdom, his guidance, and his overflowing peace, gentleness, and rest.
"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:28-30
