I am still here....

It's been months since I have published anything personal.  I continue to write daily, but when I read back over what I have written, I often see it as too personal to share - too depressing to share.  But, I am still here.  I am pushing on after a rough couple of months.  But, YES, I am still here!

It's been 199 weeks, 4 days, 19 hours and 53 minutes since my daughter took her last breath.  We are getting close to four years - and, I have said it before - feels like yesterday - feels like 100 years ago -

But, as the holidays get closer, I would just like to encourage those who know a grieving parent to reach out to them...make a phone call...send a card...invite them to lunch...JUST REACH OUT!!!  There is nothing that means more than another human reaching out to you when you are grieving your child.  I have been blessed by incredible friends and family who have never left me alone.  But, then there are those who turned their backs and/or walked away.  It has been amazing to see who has stepped into their places and carried me through some of the worst days of my life.

I know in our society we do not often know how to acknowledge grief - it makes us uncomfortable, as if it might be contagious.  But, the expectation of a grieving parent is low - all it takes is a kind word, a free ear and/or a hug to remind them they are still vital and there is still purpose.  This is especially true of as we often lose our purpose when we lose our children.  I was always Tasha's mom - and a teacher - those are the two things that defined me.  I know I am still Tasha's mom - but, without her here, I realized I had no thought of who else I might be and I am still figuring it out.

SO, as we enter the holiday season, remember the grieving parent - she/he is often wearing a mask with a smile - trying to make others feel comfortable - while screaming with pain on the inside.  Please be patient with us - we are fragile - our wings have been broken.  Make that call - extend that hand of friendship - you will not be sorry, for a grieving parent never forgets the kindness from those who reached out ---

NAMASTE