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To my friend who lost a parent before me, I'm sorry I didn't know.

  • Writer: Lisa Stover
    Lisa Stover
  • Apr 29, 2019
  • 6 min read

"You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." - Bob Marley

A month and a half ago I lost my mom. She battled breast cancer for 2 years, and she wasn't ready to be done fighting it - until her body began shutting down and she was given 2 days to live.


Losing my mom has left me with unbearable pain. I truly miss her and I wish I had even just one more day with her. It's a sinking feeling that I wouldn't wish on anyone, though many face this harsh reality every day.


Everyone deals with grief differently, and for me, I've stayed busy. Staying busy has forced me to get out of bed, to leave the house, and it has enabled me to share my journey with others. This isn't for everyone, but it's what I have needed to do to keep myself moving forward.


When I lost my mom I was told to take the bad days and the good days as they come. This advice stuck with me, and it has helped me to take the roller coaster of emotions, and everything else in between, one day at a time.


I have friends who lost a parent before me. I didn't understand at the time how to help them, what to say, or how to be there for them. I know now, and I wish I had known then.


There are many things others have done for our family that have made such an impact, and it has completely shifted my outlook on how to show support for others going through a difficult time.


I hope this post speaks to you, and in some way gives you the permission to be the person who is simply there for others who are facing loss. All you really need to do is show up.


To all those who have lost a loved one, I am so deeply sorry for your loss.


I am sorry I didn't know that all you needed was someone just to come to the funeral with you, to hold your hand through it all. Even if I didn't know your loved one much at all.


I'm sorry, I didn't know.

I'm sorry I didn't know that you needed space just as much as you needed to know I was there for you. I didn't know because I had never lost a parent like you had.


I didn't think to send you a simple card or flowers as you grieved, as a subtle message of love and support that I was there for you.


I wish I had known the suffering and pain that comes with losing a parent, that complaining about mine around you must have been difficult to bear.


I didn't know that all you needed was for me to drop off cookies and a card at your door, or even just a simple coffee because you probably hadn't left the house in days. I didn't know how to help you or be there for you.


Words fall so short in times like these, but I wish I had known that I didn't need the right words. I just needed the right actions to support you and be there for you during your most difficult time.


I'm sorry I didn't know how difficult the holidays would be for you, especially the first year. I didn't know just how much every Holiday reminded you once again of your loss.


I wish I had known how much losing your parent had changed you. How much it shifted your outlook on life, that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. I now understand why you don't get caught up in the small things and even the drama that doesn't really matter in the end.


I'm sorry I didn't know that you probably preferred phone calls over text, and that I shouldn't have expected a response for days or weeks.


I didn't need the right words. I just needed the right actions to support you and be there for you during your most difficult time.

I wish I would have offered you the option of calling me every time you tried to call the parent you lost, when you were reminded once again that they were gone. I wish I knew how hard it was to want to call your loved one, hear their voice, or talk about your day but not be able to.


I now know that talking to me wouldn't be the same, but I wish I had know that even such a small offer would have meant the world to you.


I didn't know that even though you were smiling on the outside, how much pain you were feeling on the inside. That seeing life go on without your parent was heartbreaking for you.


I wish I knew how much more difficult life became when you were going through rough times and needed advice from your parent, but you couldn't ask them for it.


I wish I would've known that one of the best things someone could say to you as you grieved was, "I wish I could take your pain from you."


I'm sorry I didn't know that weeks or months later it was still ok to bring you a hot meal, or clean your house. I didn't know that the grieving process is long and that you probably didn't have the strength to cook or clean.


I'm sorry I didn't know that the month after losing a loved one is often the hardest, because that's when everyone goes back to their lives and stops checking in on you.


To everyone who has lost a loved one, the walking wounded, I am so sorry. I truly wish I could take your pain from you.


To everything, there is a season. For many of us, this season right now is simply adjusting to our "new normal," and we must continue to take it one day at a time.


No matter how a loved one is lost, it is still so much more painful that anyone could ever imagine. Below is a list of some things that have helped me as I grieve the loss of my mom, and I hope they will in some way help you too.


  • Prayer. Asking for prayer from others, and praying constantly throughout the day. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for the hundreds, and probably thousands, of prayers for my mom and family. It has given me more strength than I could have ever imagined. To all those who have prayed for us, thank you.

  • Listen to worship music. My mom brought her iPod to every chemo treatment and she listened to Christian radio stations to help her get through her infusions. She was so at peace as she sat in her chair for hours, awaiting the side effects that would soon take over and wreck havoc on her body in the coming weeks. After she passed, I began listening to more Christian music again and it has helped keep my focus on what matters most. Keeping my eyes on the bigger picture has helped shift my focus off myself and my feelings, and onto how I can serve others.

  • Be transparent with others through the journey. Being willing to be honest and vulnerable about our grief can help someone else through theirs. You'll be amazed at how freeing it is to be open about your feelings. When we conceal our grief and bottle it up, it will eventually wear us down and wreck havoc on our lives. God is not a God of fear and hopelessness, but of strength and hope. Take all your thoughts captive to Him and He will give you the strength to get through whatever it is that you are facing (Philippians 4:8).

  • Snuggle a dog or two. I'm not kidding! My husband and I recently adopted a second dog, and it has been the best therapy for me. I was helpless in being able to save my mom in the end, but rescuing a dog has helped me to channel those feelings of helplessness into a feeling of empowerment to be able to help someone else. In this case, it's a dog that was abused and ended up in a shelter, and now I get to love on him every day.

  • Cherish the good memories. It can be so hard for me to remember my mom before she had cancer. Cancer took so much of her from us, but remembering both the big and small moments we shared before she got sick has helped bring healthy memories of her to life.

  • Check on your strong friend today. Whether you are reading this blog as someone who has lost a loved one or not, don't forget to check on your strong friend today. They may appear strong on the outside, but even the strong ones can be weak sometimes. Knowing you are there for them will mean the world when they have moments of weaknesses and need someone to lean on.

None of us are guaranteed tomorrow, and today is truly all we have. Imagine if you were given just 2 days to live, would you be ok with the legacy that you are leaving behind?


No matter what today holds, may we all keep God at the center. May we let our lives, our journeys, be a testament to others that no matter what we face in this life, God is even greater still.


God-centered women - may we know them, may we raise them, may we be them.


Shine on queen,

Lisa



Grief can cause a myriad of emotions. If you, or anyone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts or ideations, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255.

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