Every week before I release a new podcast episode, I listen to the full episode one last time in order to get one or two take-home points that I can write about to accompany the podcast release. I know that some people will never listen to the episode and only read these paragraphs either through Facebook, Instagram, or my email list. I have been told that sometimes listening is just too painful and reading the little introduction is all that people can handle.

Today, I have a problem. I would need 30 or 40 paragraphs in order to cover the key points of this episode. Karen's insights, although she is so early in her grief after losing her daughter, Ashley to lymphoma, are simply amazing. As I listened, I kept changing my mind about what the write-up should include. Karen just kept sharing nugget after nugget of priceless wisdom.

We talked about the fact that the body is amazing at what it can endure until it suddenly can't anymore. She shared the wisdom of her rabbi who said that she could not believe in a God who would cause Ashley's death to happen, but does believe in a God who is crying with us and surrounding us with the love that we need to get through the pain of her loss. We discuss the power of words and the difference between trauma and TRAUMA. The talk about how bittersweet is a term that does not do justice to either end of the emotional spectrum. The pain of your child being missing is excruciating, not just bitter, while the event we are celebrating can be amazing and not just sweet. We discuss the fact that we will never get to the other side of the tunnel of grief while we still live. We can definitely see beauty and even some light in the tunnel, but we will never see the light at the end of the tunnel.

By now, I think you see my dilemma. There is just too much to share in a concise way. There is only one answer. This is a podcast episode that you simply must listen to from beginning to end. It actually may even be a good idea to take out a pad of paper to jot down some notes. I know you won't regret it.

"I'm gonna leave." This is such an innocent phrase. It is something that Chester's son, Corban, likely said to his parents hundreds of times over his 21 years of life. It meant that he was going somewhere - to school, to the movies, maybe just out with friends. He was going somewhere specific.

That is why it was so healing for Chester when he learned that these were the last words that Corban said to the first responders seconds before he died. Corban had been in a car accident and had been speaking with the ambulance team as they were waiting for help to get him out of the car. He calmly said, "I'm gonna leave," and then he quietly took his last breath and died. Although the ambulance workers tried to save him and get him back, he was already gone.

That phrase is what gave Chester and his wife a little bit of peace in the most horrible time of their lives. If Corban said he was 'gonna leave,' it meant that he was going somewhere. His life wasn't just over; it was just continuing somewhere else. He wasn't on earth anymore, but he seemed to know at that moment that he was going on to heaven.

Only three weeks later, Chester started scribbling words down on a napkin based on these final words. These words became lyrics and a tune started forming in Chester's head. The first lines of the chorus are as follows:

      If you say you're gonna leave, you're goin' somewhere

      But the place we wanna be is where you are

After help from musicians and eventually a producer in Nashville, the final, beautiful song was completed - a song celebrating Corban's life and remembering that someday we will all be reunited 'somewhere' together. It was released as 'Gonna Leave' by CorbansDad just in time for Father's Day this year. What a wonderful tribute from a father to his amazing son. I guarantee listening will touch your heart. To learn more, visit www.corbansdad.com. To watch the YouTube video and hear 'Gonna Leave', click here.

When someone asked Elizabeth what her grief felt like in the months after her 9-week-old baby, Delia Grace died, she described it as if her body was on fire, but that the fire was invisible to others. She says that she tried to continue functioning, but that it was impossible to do the 'normal things of life' when you felt like you were on fire. You can't think. You can't focus. You can't understand what others are saying to you. It's just too painful to function.

Since Delia Grace died 7 years ago, Elizabeth and her family started an organization to help other bereaved families grieving the loss of a child called Forever Our Angel (foreverourangel.com). They send books free of charge to grieving families. They also sell a children's book (with or without stuffed book buddies) written by Elizabeth to help grieving children. There are resources all over the website introducing grieving families to retreats and other resources nationwide.

We as grieving parents have experienced tremendous suffering. As awful as that suffering is, however, we can and do learn from our suffering. As difficult as it is to admit, we can grow in our suffering. Suffering changes us. Not all of those changes have to be bad ones, however. Some of those changes can be good. They can make us better people.

One of my favorite lines from this week's podcast was when Elizabeth said, "We have a wealth of knowledge that but for our experience, we would not have been able to attain." Through her foundation and speaking to others, Elizabeth is doing a tremendous job teaching others to have compassion for those who grieve and suffer. Whenever Elizabeth is introduced to a newly bereaved parent, she says that her heart breaks a little inside. She doesn't want them to be here and experience this pain, but since they are, she wants them to know that she is there for them. Elizabeth says, "If you are here, you have me. You don't have to do this alone." That's what we all need, isn't it? A place to feel a little less alone in our suffering.

I first met today's guest, Destia, when I was a guest speaker for Lisa Boehm's Hope and Healing Together Community last year. I learned that Destia's son had died of Moyamoya disease, and that, in her grief, Destia was trying to educate the medical community about Moyamoya in order to help save lives. Destia decided to come on the podcast to continue this process of educating people about this rare genetic disorder as well as get to talk about her amazing son.

After recording, I often hear back from guests and continue emailing them. In fact, some of my closest friendships today started as those email exchanges. I was a little surprised to hear from Destia, however, as she told me that she was concerned that she didn't show enough emotion during the interview. She wrote, "I am really broken over my son's death two+ years ago, but I might have only shown my gratefulness that we had him as long as we did. In other words, I did not show my deep grief." 

I quickly reassured her that I thought it was lovely and that Aaron would be so proud of her, but her words did make me a little sad. They didn't make me sad because I thought the interview was anything but great. It made me sad because all of us as bereaved parents feel so much pressure to show just the right amount of sadness to the world. Over the last 4 years, I know I have occasionally had comments from listeners that they stopped listening for a while because I was not sad enough. I have had other times when I have felt like I have been too emotional during a specific episode.

I am actually quite thankful that Destia wrote that to me because it reminds me that all of us show our emotions differently on any given day. I am in a group text of bereaved moms and one of them asked today if there were certain days where we just felt like we were on the verge of tears all day. Many of us quickly responded yes to that question. There are other days, however, when we do feel a bit more 'together'. On those days, we may seem more thankful than sad. Today, I am reminded that both are perfectly fine and completely normal.

When starting this podcast almost 4 years ago now, I had a goal. I wanted to create a resource for bereaved parents, a platform for parents to tell stories of their children and their personal grief journeys. I wanted it to feel safe and encouraging, offering a little bit of hope as they traversed through the dark, lonely road of grief.

I realized while recording this special 200th episode that we have together created so much more than a resource. We have created a community. As Gwen read each child's name out loud this week, images flew through my mind - a picture of a child or family, a favorite color, a sport or sports team. Some of these images brought tears to my eyes while others a bit of a smile, but they all brought a sense of community.

During recording, I talk quite a long time about how I think of Caleb and Chrisy (Ep. 19: Caleb's Mom) whenever I see the color orange. As I sat down that afternoon to edit the episode outside on my deck, an unusual bright orange butterfly landed beside me and sat for a bit. It was gone before I had time to snap a picture, but I thought about Caleb immediately. Later, I went to therapy, and as I was leaving looked up at the calendar that hung by the exit - another orange butterfly - Caleb again.

That evening, I went to golf league and my partner was using bright orange golf balls. (Oh my word! Caleb again!) I reached into my bag and picked out 2 bright yellow Callaway Supersoft balls (my favorite brand) that Eric had recently found for me. I immediately thought of my friend Laura and her Luke (Ep. 102: Luke's Mom). If Caleb was to be represented on the golf course, then Luke was going to be as well. Luke loved yellow just as much as Caleb loved orange.

Then, things got even crazier. I am not a good golfer. The idea of me getting par is unusual, and a birdie is almost unthinkable, but on the night before Andy died, I did just that. I got a birdie in Ladies League. It had not happened since and I sort of thought it was a gift from God that would never happen again. On the third hole of the night, however, I hit a great tee shot. My second shot was even better - 140 yards right on the green rolling closer and closer to the hole until stopping a mere 15 inches from the hole. Could it be? Could I really hit another birdie on the day I recorded episode 200? As I tapped in the birdie putt with my yellow 'Luke' ball, I almost started to cry.

I shared with the women that I was golfing with the story of my last birdie and the fact that I had just recorded episode 200. We all teared up, feeling like it was a little gift from God and Andy. I then decided to share my orange stories from the day with the ladies. One of the women then said that she also loves the color orange. She had an orange wedding, showed me her orange phone and even just bought a cottage on Orange Ave. As we finished the round, she noticed an orange golf ball sitting near the cart path. She immediately picked it up to hand it to me. Before even looking, I knew it would be an orange Callaway Supersoft. It had to be - a gift to me from Caleb on my special day. As we sat down to dinner outside, our cloth napkins and centerpieces were - you guessed it - orange.

We ate dinner and then went to try some dessert. Apparently, there were amazing cupcakes that evening. Looking at the cupcake types, I thought I would cry again. Sitting on the table were three lemon cupcakes. It seems that Caleb finally gave Andy a 'turn' to give me a gift. You see, Andy's favorite type of cake is lemon. We always had lemon cake for his birthday. The last time we ate lemon cake together was that night almost 5 years ago when I had my birdie. We celebrated Valeriano's birthday with a lemon bundt cake that Andy helped me buy. Less than a week later, we would serve lemon cake at his funeral. And now, on the day I recorded episode 200, I got to eat the best lemon cupcake I have ever tasted.

There are some days when I wonder if I should keep doing the podcast or if I should give it up. Listener numbers that had been steadily increasing had become a bit more flat recently. Were people still interested or had the podcast run its course? Then I have days like this when I have my answer. It does not matter if I have thousands or dozens of downloads in a given week. The people who listen are meant to be there. They are meant to be a part of my community. These children impact my life and the lives of all who listen. Today, I got special little gifts from Caleb, Luke, and Andy. I like to think maybe they were all planning it together in heaven.

Andy's Mom. These are such sweet words for me to hear. When today's guest, Mary, wrote me a few weeks ago, and she introduced herself as Andy's Mom, we had an instant connection. She was not Andrew's Mom or Drew's Mom; she was Andy's Mom, and I immediately had tears in my eyes just reading the words. I recently had a Caleb's Mom write to me to tell me how listening to another Caleb's Mom on the podcast affected her. I have had other moms say similar things. I had experienced something close to this when I spoke with Andrew's Mom a few weeks ago, but this was even more precious. This was Andy's Mom.

I was not surprised that this story touched me uniquely. As Mary talked about 'her' Andy, I found myself thinking about 'my' Andy. I compared them. How were they alike? How were they different? As 'her' Andy died when he was 35 years old and starting his career as a dentist, I thought more specifically about what 'my' Andy may have been like had he reached his adult years. What would he have chosen for a career? Where would he have lived? Would he have found someone to share his life with? Would he be like Mary's Andy and just be started to find his stride and peak in life?

As I approach episode 200 next week, I am even more struck by the idea that stories touch us in very special ways. Sharing our stories with each other helps our children live on in the hearts and minds of others. As I write these words, tears are streaming down my face. Hearing other stories, as tragic as they are, binds us together. Now, I have the story of another Andy in my heart, this one an Andy who dies tragically a bit older and in the prime of his life. It doesn't even stop there, however. I have the stories of Caleb, Garret, Eleni, Luke, and Parker in my heart. I have the stories of Brogan, Taylor, Angelo, Dakota, and Alex. I have all these stories and dozens upon dozens more, those whose stories are on the podcast and those shared with me through email or the support group. Thank you to all of those who are willing to share to help others feel not quite so alone in their grief.

I love how timing so often works out perfectly. Tracy should have been on the podcast months ago, but due to computer issues, this episode comes out one week after our coping strategies one. Tracy's daughter, Katie, was a girl with a smile that would light up a room. She was an inspiration to many as an amazing friend, mother, and police officer. In fact, Tracy said that Katie was so kind that when she would make an arrest, by the time they got to the police station, the arrested person would be apologizing to Katie for not being nicer to her.

After Katie was killed in the line of duty, Tracy felt incredibly alone. Tracy shared that her feelings of grief and loneliness led her to turn to alcohol to numb the pain. Using a combination of alcohol and prescription anti-anxiety medication, Tracy tried to push away all of the feelings thinking that this strategy would help her grief. Over time, however, Tracy realized how wrong she was. 

What really struck me is the way that Tracy got out of this self-destructive cycle. It is like she took Jami's three keys from last week on how to cope when grieving and put them into action. This is, of course, not the case. Tracy turned her journey around many months ago now and I actually had that conversation with Jami several weeks after this interview. When listening to Tracy again though, I see just how true Jami's words were.

Tracy showed all three points perfectly. First, Tracy was gentle with herself. She didn't stop drinking all at once. She slowly started drinking less and replaced the drinking with positive coping strategies. Second - Tracy found a community to support her. She joined an AA group of grievers and became especially close with other grieving moms. Third - She started moving her body. Tracy had a good friend and a fellow grieving mom invite her to start walking, and they began to faithfully walk each day. It was only after this that the alcohol and drug use was able to totally go away. 

I know that Katie is smiling down from heaven, proud that her mom is now an inspiration to others as well.

After the death of a child, grieving parents continue to function. We get up out of bed (most days). We usually shower. We eat at least something. Some of us even try to work. How do we do it? We cope and each person has different coping strategies that we rely on to use during these dark times. I remember so many people saying to me after Andy died, "You are so strong. I would never be able to do what you are doing." Honestly, those comments really just made me mad. I didn't know how to 'do' anything. There isn't a choice. If those people were in my shoes, they would be functioning as well. They may do better and they may do worse, but they would function in some way because there is no other option. Having said that, there are healthy ways to cope and maladaptive ways to cope after the loss of a child, and that's what we dove into this week. Special guest Jami opens up to us about the unhealthy way that she relied on alcohol during the first year after losing her son, Judson, and, how over this past year, she has learned to make healthier decisions for herself in her grief. My absolute favorite part of today's podcast is when Jami went over her three keys for early grievers. They are listed below: 1.) Grace - Be gentle with yourself. Know that tomorrow is a new day. Don't beat yourself up about making a poor decision today. You are doing the best that you can! 2.) Community - Find a group of people who will support you unconditionally. Oftentimes, this is a community of other grievers and not your family or current friends. 3.) Movement - This does not mean that you need to run for miles or do an hour of yoga. Even two minutes of deep breathing and stretching can get your body moving and help with your grief. These keys can help soften the edges and make this grief journey just a tiny bit easier.

This week's episode was an emotional one for me as will be quite obvious to anyone listening. As I was listening one last time before releasing it, I think I realized why this week's guest impacted me so intensely. I felt like I was talking to myself 20 years from now. There were so many similarities between our boys and our lives, but Linda is almost 26 years into her grief journey while I am just about to hit the 5-year mark.

The first similarity that I noticed was that Linda's son, Adam, was a pilot and my Andy dreamed of becoming one. Both of our sons were killed in tragic accidents in the month of August, Adam in a plane crash and Andy in a car accident, Even the town where Adam crashed his plane was significant. Adam's plane went down on a street in New Richmond, Wisconsin, the town where I lived and went to school from 2nd to 6th grade. We even both set up scholarships in our boys' names after their deaths. Every part of Linda's story seemed to speak to me directly.

What seemed to hit me more than anything though was when Linda talked about living 26 years without Adam. She said that at the time of Adam's death, she couldn't imagine living 26 years without Adam. Honestly, I have a hard time believing I have almost gone 5 years now. I still can't wrap my head around 26 years. How will I be then? What will I be doing? How will the grief feel then? Will it be less intense? Is it OK if it is less intense? Will I feel more joy than I do now? Is it OK to feel more joy?

As all of these questions ran through my head, it seems that Linda had many of the answers. Some time back, her husband sent Linda's journal to a professional writer along with some of his own writings to get some advice. Her journal was almost added as an afterthought, but as soon as she read it, this author knew that Linda had a story that needed to be told. She had so much to share with grieving parents, so many answers to questions. Now, Linda's amazing book, Healing Reflections for a Grieving Mom's Heart, is available on Amazon. This book will help so many grieving hearts - mine included.

Each week, I usually find one main takeaway point from the podcast episode. After talking with Chris though, I learned two key things. As much as I tried to get it down to one point, I couldn't leave one out. They were both equally important.

The first lesson Chris learned many years before she even had Becca, she was in the Pediatric ICU with one of the cardiac children that her family fostered from Korea. While there, Chris witnessed a family with a perfectly healthy child who went in for what was supposed to be a very simple medical procedure that resulted in many complications eventually leading to severe, irreversible brain damage. As Chris sat witnessing this horror, she found herself asking the question, 'Why?" As she pondered, Chris realized that she would never be able to answer that question and that it was not worth her time to even ask it. This was tremendously helpful to Chris later in life when raising many children with congenital heart disease, and even more so, after she lost her sweet daughter, Becca.

The second lesson that Chris learned was much further into her grief journey. Chris found that in these last few years without Becca, she was becoming tired of her grief, and maybe even a little angry with grief. She felt like grief was her enemy, affecting her life negatively. She then had a profound thought. She had heard many people say over the years that grief is love. This definitely felt like a true statement. Certainly, the reason that she grieved her daughter so much was because of her overwhelming love for Becca. Chris thought, 'If grief is a manifestation of this love, then maybe grief misses Becca, too. Maybe grief shouldn't be my enemy. Maybe grief can be my friend.' 

What a life-changing realization. Now, the challenges that I am giving to myself are to:  1.) Stop asking 'why' all of this has happened to Andy and my family, and 2.) Think of my grief as a 'friend' to keep beside me, not an enemy to hold at bay.