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, May 9, 2015

Mothers Day and a surprise

By request, I am sharing an article that I wrote two years ago. Mother's Day is hard and unexpected emotions can pop up and surprise us. This is an experience that many people feel on Mother's Day.  One mama friend explained to me earlier this week, "this was MY holiday.  This is the hardest one."  
It's the big Mother's Day today. I drove to Louisiana yesterday to be with my mother for this day. 

So here I sit...  Outside of the big church while my parents are inside. Sitting on a brick planter with tears gently flowing.  What happened?  Please allow me to back up... 

I came to church with my mother and father. Apparently it's graduation celebration day-- which is exciting for those participating. Then the pastor asked all of the mothers to stand. By this time, I was becoming a little hesitant, but I stood. He spoke beautiful praises of mothers everywhere and what they mean to the world and families.  (I have been one of those busy mothers who deserved to be honored.) Then everyone stood to sing. 

Wow!  Was this it?  I began to feel great emotion as I realized how many people that I know who have ached and longed to have the opportunity to become a mother. Also, I know sadly many mamas whose arms and hearts ache because their infants have died. The list continues as I think of the many mothers who have lost children who lived to only be a small child, a teen, or even through adulthood. Girls- as you all know, a mama is a mama regardless of the age of her child. Now I'll add to the list the people who are missing their mothers as they do not have them earthly present to celebrate with. 

That's one big list...  The pastor, who I'm certain is a caring Godly man, neglected to address these hurting people. As a mother who is trying to redefine normal in my own life, I felt overwhelmed as I realized that this attitude is what is socially accepted by society. I have spoken to more grieving mothers than I care to count-- this is what I call  "taking the casserole" mentality...  I brought the casserole. Went to the funeral. Sent a card.  Now what's the problem?  Are you still feeling sad?  I did MY part. (I do not really believe that this pastor nor everyone believes this totally but to some degree, the fact that grief is a process and not event is not yet fully accepted by most.) 

The truth is--  People learn when they are seasoned with life and experiences. 

A couple of years ago- I remember hearing the pastor at the mega church that I attend FIRST mention the hurting that many feel around holidays. THAT was comforting. 

So here I sit in the bright sunlight--outside of this church-- on a brick planter-- but yet the breeze of the gentle wind is too chilly to feel any warmth... Despite the sun on my skin.
Now church is letting out and I'm faced with seeing people with my embarrassment. Sigh. 

"He floods the darkness with light; he brings light to the deepest gloom."  Job 12:22NLT 

Hold tight onto these Truths that our Heavenly Father has sent to us...  Much love to each of you who are walking through the journey of grief. 

Pamela Parker 

Monday, May 4, 2015

Be still....

I  always been a very busy person.  Before the "empty nest" days,  my life as a mother kept me very busy. In the past, my work life and balancing a personal life left me with very little time to just be still. 

When Logan died, everything stopped. In those first few days, my house was filled with many people. I have minimal memory of who was there and most of the events of those first few days. 

After the funeral, I was determined to be a gracious southern woman and personally write out the 250 thank you notes. It was very disturbing to me that I had no recollection of "who did what" to help me. It was also very disturbing that my memory only retrieved patches of time and events.  Oh, as an FYI-- I totally screwed up the thank you notes. Some people received two thank you notes and some of the people I totally missed writing. This was my first real experience with Teflon brain.

Anyway, because of this lack of control (on many levels!!), I found myself to be surprisingly anxious at times.  "Striving to create predictability" -- This later became an effective coping mechanism as I began to fear what would pop up and startle me. 

Back to my initial point--   I was a super busy chickadee. Then the busyness stopped. Being still and quiet was foreign to me at that time. I had always been busy, until everything in our entire family's world came to a halt. 

I have noticed that many people MUST be busy. I have a dear friend who has found coping so challenging that she either races with activities or she sleeps. Being in the PRESENT and being STILL is frightening for her. It is frightening to many of us. I remember when it was frightening to me. 

It took many years and a lot of trauma and drama, but I am thankfully at a place in my life where stillness is GOOD. Actually, segments of time with stillness and quiet are mandatory for my sanity. I have come to terms with the earthly departure of Logan.... At least with segments of this harsh reality.  

When I was initially forced into this reality, I was physically uncomfortable. No one told me how much grief physically hurts!  It is not just emotional pain but physical pain. My body was tense and tight and I was often unknowingly gritting my teeth. I even haa a patient point this out... which was a tad bit embarrassing. 

I decided to make a purposeful attempt to watch the clock as I made a personal commitment to just be STILL and stretch my achy muscles for 10 minutes. To clear my mind. To pray. To be still and to recognize that all is safe and quiet at that present moment. 

We often fear the quiet. We fear that the reality of losing a child might invade our personal and quiet space and bring us to our knees.  Of course it will, for it has already invaded every cell in your body. But, my friends... Do NOT be afraid!!  This can be an important step in the journey of healing. 

Know that EACH time you choose to enter this quiet space, you will not break down and fall apart... At least not for very long. Remember- Tears are GOOD and tears really are healing. You will not always have tears in the quiet- this I promise. Tonight I am sitting alone in the quiet on my porch as I recharge for the busy week which is ahead. 

Do not be afraid of the quiet, for in the quiet, you can find healing and peace. Be still and know....  



This article has been updated but was originally published in 2015.