As I watched another Gold Star parent crumple into tears while listening to a Dad of another fallen soldier tell of his own loss, I wondered to myself, “how can I help someone who is so lost in grief?” Aren’t we comforted so that we are able to comfort others? How can we actively pursue that goal in a loving and empathetic manner?

I will start by saying that once you have personally experienced a devastating loss you are uniquely qualified to empathize with someone going through that type of loss. That is why we cry when we hear another person’s story. That is why we are so heavy hearted when we see the Patriot Guard escorting another hero home. That is why we are so quick to hug. That is also why we can assure someone that it will get better over time and that while we can’t “move on,” we can at least move forward.

God tells us that we can help. We can stand together with those who need encouragement and they are able to stand with us or with someone else. “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are fearful-hearted, “Be strong, do not fear! Behold, your God will come and save you.”” Isaiah 35:3-4 (more…)

It’s been 2 years since my son was killed by an IED in Iraq. The overwhelming grief has been replaced by bits and pieces of sadness and loss, tucked away in private moments. The amazing thing is that after this time there are still the dreaded “places to avoid.” They are not places like the cemetery where Rhys is buried. That is a place I love to go, to quietly contemplate a short life, well-lived. They are not places like Rhys’ room, or his favorite restaurant, or any of the places he like to frequent. The dreaded places are not even in the company of his friends.

The places I avoid have to do with the notification of a sudden, unexpected death of someone most dear to your heart. (more…)

Guilt has seeped in to the deepest recesses of my person lately. Not because I’ve done something completely wrong, but because of gnawing jealousy. It is the oddest kind of jealousy; the kind that stirs when you are really trying so hard to be kind and joyful for someone else.

The jealousy comes when parents talk joyfully about their sons and daughters, whether they are very young or they are tentatively entering the world of adult responsibilities. I love to hear about the accomplishments, big and small but the jealousy begins like a sound in my ears, like the sound of trickling water. Could it be tears bubbling somewhere from within, rising to the surface and then painfully tamped down and carefully choked back? I think about my son and what he would be doing at this point in his life. I wonder about the pride and joy that I would be sharing with others, maybe oblivious to their pain at tragic circumstances in their lives. (more…)