jasejournals

01/09/2025

Losing a parent.
By Heather Shatzer

Losing a parent.
Well, it is one of the most profound and challenging experiences one can endure. It feels like a part of your foundation has been shaken, leaving you to navigate a world that suddenly seems unfamiliar and daunting. The grief can be overwhelming, but within this sorrow, there are also moments of profound reflection and growth.

When a parent passes away, the initial shock can be paralyzing. You might find yourself in disbelief, struggling to accept the reality of the loss. Memories flood your mind—some bring comfort, while others may bring tears. It’s important to allow yourself to feel these emotions fully. Grief is not a linear process; it ebbs and flows, and each person’s journey is unique.

In the midst of this pain, you may discover a deeper understanding of yourself and your parent. You start to appreciate the lessons they taught you, the values they instilled, and the love they gave. These memories become a source of strength, guiding you through the darkest days.

As time passes, the intensity of the grief may lessen, but the longing for your parent remains. It’s in these moments that you find ways to honor their memory. Perhaps it’s through continuing a tradition they cherished, or by pursuing a passion they encouraged.

These acts of remembrance keep their spirit alive and provide a sense of connection.
Support from friends and family is invaluable during this time. Sharing stories, expressing your feelings, and leaning on loved ones can help ease the burden of grief. It’s okay to seek professional help if needed; therapy can provide a safe space to process your emotions and find ways to cope.

Ultimately, losing a parent teaches us about the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment. It reminds us to live with intention, to love deeply, and to hold our loved ones close. While the pain of loss never fully disappears, it transforms into a part of who we are, shaping us into more compassionate and resilient individuals.

Remember, it’s okay to grieve, to miss them, and to feel a range of emotions. Your parent’s legacy lives on through you, and their love will always be a part of your heart.

02/08/2024

01/06/2024

01/04/2024

Grief Groceries!
I saw this letter today- as a funeral directors son, I have been around this for years. This is some of the best advice I have ever seen.

“Hey there, Thanks for writing. I’m really glad your friend has you in her life.

I get it. Grief is a funny thing. It’s the time in our life when we most need help, and also the time when asking for help is so hard. Not because we are ashamed to ask for help, although that happens sometimes too. But mostly because our brain just sort of shuts down.

When my Dad died, I looked functional. But I wasn’t OK. Not at all. And when the news got out, the ton of people flooding me with calls, texts, and DM’s was overwhelming. I really couldn’t function. I sat on the swing in our yard and just stared into space. People called and asked what they could do to help. I had no idea.

“Well, anything you need at all, let me know, OK?”

“OK”.

They hung up. I stared into space some more.

I had no idea what to do. What I needed. I didn’t even know what to ask for.

Then a friend sent a text. This friend had met Dad once but didn’t really know him. But still, she knew I was hurting. I saw who it was and almost put the phone down without reading the text, but I saw the message and it stopped me:

Will you be home at 8:30 tonight?

What’s weird is this friend lives 12 hours away from me.

Yes, I replied.

“K.”

10 minutes later, she said, “Instacart will be there at 8:30. Open the door for them.”

“What?”

“Grief Groceries.!!”

When Instacart showed up, they put two large bags of groceries on my porch. Frozen pizzas. Ice cream. Oreo cookies. Tinned soup. Stouffer’s lasagna. A gallon of milk. Like that. Things I could heat up if I needed a meal, or pig out on if I needed fat and sugar. Sometimes, you just need to eat half a box of Oreos.

Notice she didn’t ask if I needed any food. I would have said no. She just asked if I would be home.

Grief groceries.

Another friend, who lives out of town, asked Renee to name a restaurant near our house where we like to eat. There is a local chain near our house that is sort of a deli. When we eat supper there, we spend about $25. Renee told her the name of the place.

An hour later, there was a gift card in my inbox for $250. Yes, that is a lot of money, and I understand not everyone can do that. But the wonderful thing was that because it was enough for multiple meals, we didn’t try to save it for “the right time”. We ate there that night, and take out from there several times a week for the next month on nights when I just didn’t have the spoons to cook.

Both of those gift-givers knew something I didn’t know – that when you are grieving, you don’t want to make decisions. No, that’s not quite it: You can’t make decisions. You hit decision fatigue really fast.

So, I guess what I’m saying is, don’t ask grieving people to make big choices or decisions. “How can I help” is a big choice. But “Can I take the kids this afternoon so you can have some time to yourself” is a much smaller one. “Will you be home tonight?” is a small choice. “What restaurant do you like” is a small decision. Just showing up to cut their grass because you noticed it needed cutting is loads better than asking, “Do you want me to cut the grass?” Or, “I’m going to Target. What can I get you while I’m there?” is better than “Can I run any errands for you?”

It won’t always be like this. If you stick around, eventually they will surface and ways to be helpful will make themselves known. But in the first few days, especially, it helps to remove as many decisions from their plate as you can!”

Original Words from: Hugh Hollowell Jr.

08/12/2023

Click here and accept my invitation on Temu app! 🎁

08/12/2023

jasejournals Heather Jo Shatzer