Hoop Tydens Rousmart

One of the quietest, heaviest thoughts many grieving parents carry is this:

"Am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Where did I go wrong?

"That thought can attach itself to almost anything: a mistake from years ago, a time when your faith felt shaky, a prayer you missed, or a call you didn’t make.

"Why Your Brain Searches for Blame

"On the surface, it can feel like a faith question. But underneath, something in the brain is working overtime.

"Your brain’s main job is to predict and keep you safe. It constantly looks for patterns: What caused this? How do I stop it from happening again?

"When you lose a child—the most unnatural pain imaginable—the brain cannot handle the idea that it was random. Random means no control. No control means danger could come again at any time.

"So the brain searches for a reason. If the suffering is punishment, then maybe it can be prevented next time. If tragedy follows a mistake, then being “good enough” might keep you safe.

"Self-blame, as strange as it sounds, can feel like it brings back some order. We would often rather blame ourselves than live in a world where terrible things just happen with no reason...."

~Gayla Claborn, MS, LPC

(☟Read the full essay on our blog.)

https://allianceofhope.org/the-guilt-that-shows-up-when-we-lose-a-child/

In the quiet aftermath of loss, grief asks us to learn how to live with a situation that cannot be undone. These books are a gentle meditation on sorrow, remembrance, and the fragile ways we learn to go on. It offers not easy answers but the solace of being understood—a companion for those walking through absence toward whatever light remains.

It’s been more than a decade since my son chose su***de as an exit. The days and years that followed were the hardest I’ve ever experienced. And to be honest, I was uncertain whether something so traumatic was even survivable.

In the years that followed, I learned how to steer away from a victim mentality and face, rather than avoid, the pain. I learned that suffering is something we unintentionally create through the way we think or view any situation. Truly understanding those two principles helped me to fully live and not live with the shadow of grief on my heels.

Op Vlerke van Hoop/On Wings of Sorrow. Chasing Life for Su***de Loss Survivors.

For more information : www.hooptydensrousmart.co.za, [email protected], [email protected]

You can't hide from grief. Can't go under, above, or slip by its side to avoid the soul-destroying pain. You can numb it for a while, but after the drugs/alcohol/shopping/scrolling is done, you are back at square nr.1. The only way to the other side is through - intentionally, and without trying to escape the intensity.

"It took the edge off. It didn't take the grief away."

The wine, the scrolling, the staying busy. They bring real relief for a moment. But relief is not the same as healing, and when it wears off, the grief is still there waiting.

That is not weakness. No one ever taught you what to do with the pain.

One of the most frustrating parts of grief for me was how it felt like walking on a spiral staircase.

One moment, I felt like I had climbed a few steps and could finally breathe again. I felt calmer. Stronger. More steady.

Then suddenly, without warning, something would happen, a memory, a song, a date, and it felt like I walked right back down the staircase into deep pain again.

It was exhausting because I never knew when those emotions would hit. Some days I really believed I was healing and moving forward. Then the next day, I felt overwhelmed with sadness all over again.

At first, I thought that meant I was failing.
Like I was starting over every time the pain returned.

But over time, even though grief brought me back down those stairs sometimes, I was never really back at the very bottom, at the place I was the day my person died.

That’s the part people often don’t understand about grief.

That it doesn’t move in a straight line. It circles. It rises and falls. And you revisit emotions again and again. But each time you do, you’re returning to them with a little more experience, strength, and understanding than before.

In the beginning, the staircase feels dark and endless. The pain is intense and constant. But as time passes, you slowly begin having more moments where you can catch your breath. More moments of peace between the waves of grief.

The painful days still come. They always will. But they usually don’t pull you down quite as far as they once did.

That doesn’t mean you stopped loving the person you lost. It just means you’ve learned how to carry your grief differently.

So when those hard days return, try not to convince yourself you’re back where you started.

You’re not.

You’ve already climbed so many steps you once thought you’d never survive. And even when grief causes you to step downward for a while, you’re still farther along the staircase than you were before.

And little by little…you’ll continue to climb.

Gary Sturgis
Author: ‘SURVIVING GRIEF – 365 Days A Year’

Always be kind to yourself (first). No one can pour from an empty cup.

Memorial pieces. Keep your loved one close to your heart.
For more info, PM or [email protected]

Getting through the grief after losing a child. It might not be easy, but it is possible. Elizabeth did it, I did it, and we are not alone. If you are struggling with grief, please visit www.hooptydensrousmart.co.za
Sending love to all.
https://youtu.be/CROIQ5JkvnE

The Continuing Bonds with Our Children in Spirit Elizabeth Boisson shares an interview with Fox News that aired on February 17th, 2017. We hope that it brings healing and comfort to you and your families. ...

One of the quieter losses survivors carry is the loss of who they were before. The person who assumed things would work out. The one who laughed easily, worried less, moved through the world with a lightness that now feels like it belonged to someone else.

That person may not fully return. Many survivors come to understand this not as a defeat, but as a truth they learn to make peace with.

What may be possible instead is something different: wholeness that holds what has happened, a self that has been permanently changed and is still, somehow, complete. Not the same. Not unbroken in the original way. But whole.

Julia O’Brien wrote this two years after her loss. It may be exactly what someone needs to hear today.

Find others who understand at allianceofhope.org/forum

***deLoss

Iets wat ek so pas ondervind het, en dit het nogal vir 'n paar oomblikke lelik geknyp. Die persoon beskuldig my van "gaslighting" omdat ek dit waag om my lampie van hoop en heling te swaai. Dit is jammer dat iemand sy rousmart vir jare lank soos 'n kruis en 'n skild dra, en kwaad word omdat hy nie kan hoor hoeveel ligter sy lewe daarsonder kan wees nie.

"When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." Dit wil my voorkom asof ek nie vandag sy teacher was nie, en moontlik nooit sal wees nie.

www.hooptydensrousmart.co.za
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