Welcome to Hope for Grieving Mothers

If you are new to this club (that no one asked to join- the one where your child has died), it is best to start by going to the BOTTOM RIGHT and look at the "Pages" section. Under this section you will find resources for mothers who are grieving the loss of their child. Resources to help your children deal with grief are also grouped together.

Next, feel free to look at the "Blog Archives." There are many topics that you may have an interest in reading. As you girlies know, we now have Teflon brains and often cannot have the focus power that we have had in the past. Feel free to come here often and hopefully you will FEEL the loving support that me and other mamas are sending. Hopefully you will begin to see sparks of hope for your future...

Hugs... Pamela

Saturday, April 19, 2014

I'm leaving on a jet plane....

I feel a sense of freedom when walking onto an airplane. 

Even though it isn't possible to leave your "life" behind when traveling, it is common to think about what is in our near future. In some cases, it's a vacation to explore something new. In other situations, it may be for our career and to participate in work projects in another location.  Regardless, when the plane takes off, a slight sense of vertigo is created as the plane begins to take off and fly away.... Into the future.... Whatever and wherever this may be. 

I often look at the buildings and roads that are below me. Sometimes I'm positioned in such a way that I'm able to see where I live. As the plane flies higher, I am once again reminded of the multitude of houses and people under me and my airplane. Our "real" world becomes tinier visually. Then it disappears all together.  

As I look below I see squares of property and rivers and interesting terrain. My world appears new. Different. Poof!  I am now somewhere else! 

This is very far removed from my "real" life.  Today, as I sit on this plane, I am now on vacation from work and my ordinary life. This plane physically and quickly removed me from all that is "my normal"--  temporarily. Everyone needs a break. I certainly have needed one. 

When we have a horrible grief experience, we often try to permanently leave it and go far far away. I've known families that have moved from their homes very quickly after losing a child. I've known people who have made huge life changes -- such as changing jobs or divorcing-- after suffering a devastating loss. Then there are others who are so paralyzed by fear of change and exhaustion that we stop moving our bodies and our lives all together. This is somewhat the category that I often fall into--  the "safe" category. I often try to not rock the boat and avoid chaos and conflict. 

Whatever grief phase you are in, I challenge you to take a walk outside. Change the scenery in your life. Breathe deeply and fill your lungs with fresh air. Stretch. Take a drive. Go to a state park.  Bring a blanket and lay down in a new place. Watch a funny movie!  Doodle.  Create art. (Side note- Attached you'll see a beautiful piece of art therapy that a friend has recently created....  Butterflies and a heart.)  All of these actions can create emotional vacations that we all deserve and NEED in order to gain fuel for our individual journey.  Do NOT move too fast and run.... Instead, walk slowly and savor the life and beauty that is around you. Notice and receive the tiny gifts that have been given to us.  

As I look out of the airplane window, I feel a sense of freedom. I am acutely aware that soon I will be returning to my pleasant and ordinary life.  Beginning today-- I'm taking a break.  It's a healthy break!  

I look forward to hearing ways in which you take your own break from the world around you!  

Sending thoughts of peace and contentment and healing to all of you. Hugs!!!

Pamela Parker 


PS-- I always enjoy your messages and comments. Pop me an email!  

1 comment:

  1. The chaplain at your hospital gave me your blog spot today. I am comforted by knowing I am not alone. A mom close to me (location) knows and understands my grief. Thank you.