When Britt's 4-year-old son, Persy, died from cancer 18 months ago, Britt says that she was shocked. Now, you may question why Britt says she was shocked. Persy suffered from cancer for almost two years before dying. He underwent treatment after treatment, both in their home state of Florida and in New York. Persy was sent home on hospice to spend the last three weeks of his life. How is it that Britt says she was shocked?

The answer lies in the difference between the words shock and surprise. Was Britt surprised that Persy died? No - she was not. She knew he was dying. Although she continued to pray for a miracle, she knew that his chances of recovery were minimal, so she was not surprised when Persy took his last breath. However, Britt was still shocked. No parent can truly imagine what life will be like after their child dies. We won't ever hear their voice again, be able to see their smile light up a room, or hold them close in a loving hug. We are therefore in shock when we have to experience these things, no matter whether the death was expected or not.

As the shock slowly wears off, we now realize that we must continue living, even though it feels impossible. We may cry every day. We miss them every day, but time continues to move. Britt immediately turned to other bereaved parents to ask for help. Britt says that she and her husband have held on to two truths since losing Persy. First, their faith will bring them back to Persy. Persy lives on in heaven, and someday, they will be able to join him. The second truth is that every day, they are a little closer to the day they will be reunited with Persy.

Do these truths make it easy to live here on earth without Persy? Of course not. Britt cries for Persy each day. She misses that he is not a part of her life now. She wishes her younger boys had an older brother to teach them to run, jump, and play - an older brother who might have occasionally gotten them all into trouble. Despite this longing for Persy and the life they might have had, she will continue to remind herself of the truth that one day they will all be reunited in faith.

I am quite sure I have never spoken with a parent whose child had their own Wikipedia page, but Erin's son, Keenan Cahill, does. Certainly, when Keenan was born, Erin did not ever imagine that someday, he would become an internet celebrity. From an early age, Erin worried about Keenan and his growth and development. When Keenan was 12 months old, Erin mentioned her concerns to Keenan's pediatrician. Keenan was diagnosed with Mucopolysaccharidosis Type VI. The disease was not curable, but was treatable. He underwent a bone marrow transplant to slow the progression. Erin was told that his life expectancy was between 40 and 60 years, and they should expect medical complications throughout life. 

Despite these challenges, Keenan wanted to be a regular kid, and Erin worked hard to make him feel that way. When Keenan wanted to play sports, Erin signed him up, although he could never hope to keep up with other kids. Nothing stood in his way. As Keenan started high school, he began playing around with the desktop computer he got for his birthday. He released a hilarious video of himself lip-syncing to Katy Perry's song, "Teenage Dream." People loved it, and soon it was played on The Jimmy Kimmel Show. His life changed forever.

Keenan was off to do events to entertain people. Celebrities visited their home to be in Keenan's videos, but with this newfound fame, many had negative, hurtful comments. Just as Keenan did not let his disease hold him back, he didn't let those hateful comments hold him back either. Eventually, he graduated from college and was able to produce his own music videos. 

Complications after heart surgery ended Keenan's life in 2022 at the age of 27, far earlier than expected. While the world mourned a Youtuber, Erin mourned her amazing son. As Erin shared his story, I just kept thinking about how he spread joy in his short life. That should inspire all of us, shouldn't it? Despite the grief and pain, we too can spread joy and inspire others. While we may not end up with a Wikipedia page, it will be enough to help spread some happiness or relieve a little pain in those around us.

When today's guest, Danielle, went into her 21-month-old daughter Lydia's room to wake her from a nap on Christmas Day 2022, she noted how peaceful Lydia looked. She began to gently rub her back to rouse her gradually, but Lydia did not move. Danielle started to jostle her a bit more and soon realized that something was very wrong. Lydia was not waking up. Danielle screamed for her husband's help and quickly called 911. Even as she drove to the hospital, Danielle says she did not realize the gravity of the situation.

Lydia had died. They learned from Lydia's autopsy that she had a rare congenital mesenteric defect that caused a volvulus and bowel obstruction that day. Their previously healthy, smiley, chatty girl and only child was gone. All they were given when they left the hospital were the pajamas Lydia had been wearing - pajamas that matched Danielle's own. They had no idea what to do. She desperately wanted some guidance - resources to help navigate these first unimaginable days and weeks, but they felt alone. 

Feeling lost, Danielle went home and started crocheting little white hearts. She buried Lydia with one in her hands and kept a matching one for herself. She crocheted hundreds of these tiny hearts, giving them away so others could remember Lydia's kindhearted spirit. Over the next weeks, Danielle thought more and more about walking out of that hospital with nothing but Lydia's pajamas. Within 4 months of Lydia's death, Danielle had started an organization in Lydia's memory that she named Love From Lydia. She began working with two local hospitals to help make care packages for grieving parents. Included in the package would be a pair of crocheted white hearts and information to help parents in this new, unexpected pain. 

Over time, Danielle realized that she wanted to do more than send comforting words on paper. She wanted to help make personal connections. She created COPE (Connecting Our Personal Experiences) which works to match parents with other grieving parents who are at least a year out from the death of their own child, making sure that newly bereaved parents don't feel as lost and alone as she once did.

Andy always loved dogs. I think he loved dogs so much because his personality was similar to a puppy's. He was always on the move and always excited to meet new people and to see new places. Over the years, Andy tried in vain to talk Eric into getting us a family dog. Eric came from a cat family. I came from a dog family. I am allergic to cats and Eric did not really like dogs, so our poor children ended up with pet fish instead. Once, when Andy was young, he asked me, 'If Dad dies, can we get a dog?' I was caught completely off guard but eventually had to answer that we could likely get a dog, but that we did NOT want Dad to die so it could happen.

Just like Andy, today's guest, Debbie, and her daughter, Kelsey, have always loved dogs. In Debbie's memoir, My Grief Jar, Debbie relates the stories of the many dogs in Kelsey's life. As a young girl, Kelsey initially struggled with painful urination, which led to more and more struggles with chronic pain throughout her teen years and into adulthood. Throughout it all, however, dogs were a constant in her life, bringing her much joy.

As an avid reader of memoirs, Debbie always said to Kelsey that someday 'something good' would come from all of the pain and suffering in her life. In all of the books that Debbie enjoyed, it seemed that the writer of the story would have 'something good' that would emerge from the tragedy they were experiencing. She was certain that would happen for Kelsey.  After Kelsey moved into her own home at the age of 27, she got a lab named Brody. Kelsey dreamed that Brody would become a therapy dog and visit nursing homes and hospitals, bringing a little joy to people living with chronic pain. 

Although Kelsey's pain was not thought to be life-threatening, she died from a severe bowel obstruction before Brody was old enough to be trained. Tragically, Kelsey never realized her dream, but Brody and Debbie have been able to do so. Debbie knows she is bringing Kelsey with them on every visit she and Brody make. Although Kelsey didn't get to experience her 'something good' in life, she plays a huge part in it.

Adlai Stevenson famously eulogized Eleanor Roosevelt, saying, 'She would rather light a candle than curse the darkness.'

When today's guest, Sherri, first heard this quote, she knew that she wanted it to apply to her life as well. Sherri's youngest daughter, Conni, battled through addiction and mental illness for 10 years. Sherri stayed by her side for all of that time, supporting her through the good years as well as the bad. She attended 12-step meetings with Conni and learned about addiction during Conni's low moments and celebrated with her when it seemed she was beating the addiction at last. She learned to love and support Conni while hating her addiction.

Months after Conni died by intentional drug overdose, Sherri thought of that famous quote. She had a decision to make - 'I can curse the darkness or I can light a candle.' It would be so easy to want to curse the ugliness of the world when watching a loved one battle addiction. It would be easy to simply sit in darkness after your child dies by suicide. However, Sherri did not make the easy choice. She made the heroic choice to light a candle instead. 

Sherri realized that her journey with Connie taught her three valuable lessons. Firstly, Sherri has far more compassion for others in pain. Secondly, she is far less judgmental of others and their actions. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, Sherri is not afraid of ugly. She has lived through the ugliest of the ugly and is still breathing. Sherri knew that she could demonstrate to others that they can do the same. She started posting on Instagram as @itsalifeunexpected to show that it is possible to love and support people through addiction without losing yourself in the process.

You see, Sherri knew that she was not going to be the last mom to watch their child battle addiction. She would not be the last mom whose child took their own life. Sherri also knew she wanted to be a light to those who would come after her. She wanted to hold a candle for them and work to light hundreds more along the path so they would not feel quite so lost and alone.

When Larry lost his son, Rob, to suicide six years ago, Larry was devasted. He immediately found a grief counselor and signed up to be in a grief support group. After two months of waiting, he attended his first support group meeting. He said he did not expect to like being in a support group, but, shortly after starting, Larry realized that he had found 'his people'. Larry felt like they could speak a language that 'ordinary' parents could not understand. 

When one of the other parents in his support group wished out loud that there was a guidebook for bereaved parents, Larry felt inspired to write such a book. Larry wrote 'A Space in the Heart' (available on Amazon) as an honest guide to help bereaved parents while they are in their deepest, darkest pain.

Larry writes:  

"When your child is taken from you, you are no longer ordinary parents. Ordinary parents don’t visit their child in a cemetery. Ordinary parents don’t cry themselves to sleep at night. Ordinary parents don’t wake up each morning knowing they’ll never see their child again. We become extra ordinary. But after a while, something strange takes place that’s right out of a Marvel comic book. A metamorphosis occurs during our grief and mourning, transforming us from extra ordinary to extraordinary.

We are extraordinary parents who must go on living in the world with a hole in our hearts. We are extraordinary parents who, in many cases, still love and care for our other children. We are extraordinary parents who go to work every day and function as human beings, while most people are unaware of our secret identities. We are extraordinary parents who feel things that no ordinary parent has ever felt, and we can endure the deepest pain because that has become one of our superpowers."

You may not feel like you have superpowers. You may feel weaker than you have ever been in your life, but Larry's words inspire me to hold my head a little higher. We are no longer ordinary parents. In fact, we are no longer ordinary people at all. We are extraordinary and have so much to offer the world.

I have been told that my podcast is an important part of the therapy process for many grieving parents. Today is the first time, however, that I have interviewed someone whose therapist instructed her to reach out to me and be on my podcast as a guest. 

When Robyn's son, Drew (Andrew), was killed in a motorcycle accident in 2021, she was 'shocked, but not surprised.' She certainly had that shock of losing Drew, but Drew was a daredevil most of his life. He had no fewer than three accidents in the months before his death that could have taken his life, but he had miraculously walked away each time. After Drew's death, Robyn did everything she thought she should do. She started therapy. She decided to live life to its fullest and bought two kayaks to take up kayaking. She got a healthy diet plan and lost 50 pounds. She bought equipment to start her own podcast. Everyone around her said she was doing great, and from the outside, she looked like she was doing great.

Her therapist, on the other hand, said, 'Robyn, you are not doing great. You are not allowing yourself to truly feel. You need to lean into your grief,' but Robyn did not listen. She kept on as she was, until eventually, she couldn't. The grief caught up with her. She needed to grieve. She started in a Compassionate Friends support group. A member of the group told her about my podcast, another 'Andrew's Mom' with a podcast. Hmm. Was this a little sign?

In the meantime, Robyn had been going to her new therapist, who had been brainstorming ways that she could help others in her grief. "What about a podcast?" he suggested, "or a book?" Robyn went to her therapist one day and told him about my podcast. "So you emailed her, right?" the therapist said. "No," Robyn admitted. He suggested that she get out her phone and do it right then. She promised to instead email in the next week. 

Robyn emailed me, and the rest is history. Months later, Robyn is sharing Drew's story with the world to help others heal. I am so excited to see the next steps of Robyn's journey and what this may lead Robyn to do in the days and months to come.

This week's podcast was supposed to be from a Livestream I had planned to do with Gwen earlier this week. If you follow me on Facebook, you already know that the Livestream was canceled. Gwen got very sick with Influenza A, making it impossible for her to do the Livestream. I told her not to worry at all and that I would just 'wing it' so to speak. (By the way, Gwen assures me she is beginning to feel better.)

This made me think of the saying, 'When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.' Thinking back over the past six years since Andy died, I realize I have been forced to make a lot of lemonade. When I think back to 'the old Marcy,' I probably would have been a little panicked at the prospect of recording, putting together, and releasing a podcast episode in only two days. This is a great reminder that in many ways, this new Marcy is a better version than the old one. I don't sweat the small stuff anymore and I think that my 'winging it' produced a pretty good episode this week.

During the first portion of the episode, I invited Betty to come back and talk about the 'Threads of Gold' book I have been mentioning on social media and during the last few podcasts. As a reminder, Betty and Kyle are the parents of Ella (Episode 138) who started a non-profit, Ella's Umbrella, in their daughter's memory to help fund research for congenital heart anomalies. Their newest endeavor is 'Threads of Gold' and I was thrilled to be one of twenty-six authors invited to a part of this anthology. The book tells stories of grief and loss and how we persevere through life's tragedies.

The second portion of the podcast this week was extra fun for me. My dear Aunt Penny, an avid listener of the podcast, loves the episodes I have with Eric because he always makes me laugh. Every time I do a show with Eric, I learn something new from him, and I realize we should do more episodes together. Eric and I talk about how our marriage has changed since Andy died and how men grieve. We also answered a few other questions listeners have asked over the past two days. 

Thank you Betty and Eric for helping make some tasty lemonade today.

I was so touched by talking with today's guest. Erin has been an elementary school music teacher for more than 10 years. Music was an important part of Andy's life, whether he was singing in the choir or playing the piano, drums, or French Horn. I often wonder how music would have shaped his future growing up. Although Andy said he wanted to be a pilot, Eric always felt he would have become a music teacher instead. Music touched him in such a special way. Andy's elementary school music teacher was important in introducing him to his love for music, so I felt drawn to Erin immediately. 

Music played an important role in Erin's family life as well. After suffering from fertility struggles, Erin had a simple surgical procedure and quickly became pregnant with twins. As the twins grew, they both had Erin's love for music. They loved to dance and sing and Erin could see the joy that music brought to their lives. Then tragedy struck and 20-month-old Brennan died in his sleep a few days after being diagnosed with RSV.

Erin didn't feel like she wanted to go on living. For months, Erin would go to bed at night secretly hoping that God make it so she did not wake up in the morning, but, each morning, Erin did wake up. People commented as to how strong she was, but Erin said she had no choice. She had to continue to be a wife to her husband and a mother to Avery so she kept going.

This included returning to school and teaching music only days after Brennan died. Erin posted a picture of Brennan in her classroom and began to talk about him. Erin hopes that posting that picture will help others realize that she wants to talk about Brennan. In fact, I think she is an amazing example to others showing that it is healthy to talk about hard things like death, and not avoid them. People often wonder how Erin continues to work with kids every day after losing Brennan so suddenly, but Erin knows that is the best way to honor Brennan. Erin hasn't started a foundation or become a public speaker or done anything big and flashy. Erin teaches kids to love music just like Brennan did, and that is more than enough.

None of us want to be bereaved parents. We love the idea of being a new parent. It is a title we wear proudly. We love the first time our children call us mama or dada. Although many thoughts go through our minds when welcoming our new baby, the average parent certainly does not think that they could ever be a bereaved parent. Our children aren't supposed to die before us, so those thoughts don't enter our minds. When talking to Hollis's mom, Amanda, she is quick to admit that she does not want to be a bereaved parent. She wants to continue to be Hollis's mom, but she wants to be a regular parent and not a bereaved one.

Of course, this is impossible. Amanda wants to continue to be Hollis's mom, which means she is a bereaved parent. In the almost two years since Hollis died, Amanda has started two new jobs. She dreads the questions that will invariably come asking about her children. How many children do you have? Four. What are their ages? This is when Amanda needs to take a deep breath before answering, knowing that this answer will now ruin someone's day.

Amanda longs to be able to answer this question and not have the asker suddenly become awkward and start fumbling with words. She wishes that they could accept the simple fact that she gives when she says that her son passed away at the age of four, but she knows this will not happen. They will mumble an apology and avert their eyes. They likely will turn away and not ask her further questions about her family at all. They don't want to think too hard about being the parent of a child who died because they certainly don't want it to happen to them.

This conversation makes me think more about the podcast and my social media accounts. My primary focus will always be helping bereaved parents heal, but perhaps a secondary focus should be helping everyone be more accepting of us as bereaved parents. I am so proud to be Andy's mom, and that means I am a bereaved mom. I never want to be ashamed to say it. Maybe announcing it will help others realize the term is not taboo, and they can accept us as we are today.