If you are like I was when my daughter, Becca, died, I did not want to be here anymore. I even wrote in my journal, two months after she died:

So kill me, God! Do it now, please!

I didn’t think I could take the horrific pain and suffocating darkness anymore.

Day after day I wanted something to happen to me that would take me out of this world. I wasn’t suicidal, but I sure did not want to be here anymore! I could not imagine living the rest of my life in so much pain, without my daughter here by my side.

I hear and see quite often that other freshly grieving parents feel the same way I did. We aren’t usually suicidal; we just don’t want to live anymore. A part of our very being has been cut off from us and the pain is too great to continue living.

For most of my adult life, I wanted to live to be 100, like a few of my relatives. (There is longevity and good health on both sides of my family, so there is a fairly good chance of it.) But after Becca died, I took that off the table and decided the sooner I was out of here, the better!

But in God’s totally amazing love and grace, He did not answer that plea and allowed me to continue here on this earth. Yes, you read that right.

Let me say it again, just a bit differently. It is His deep love and eternal grace that keeps us here, when all we want to do is be done and go to our eternal home to be with our child.

It took several years, but I can honestly say how thankful I am that God did not answer my plea for death to take me. Why? Well, there are all kinds of reasons I have now, but truthfully, one of the main reasons is that I wouldn’t be here to encourage you!

Along with thousands of other pareavors before me, I made the transition of not wanting to be here, to being okay with it, and finally getting to where I actually want to stick around here for a few more years.

Most of us know in our heads that we have other people to live for. But it takes a while for our hearts to get past the horrendous pain, to be able to comprehend it in a way that becomes a lifeline for us.

To help get you there, pull out a piece of paper and write down at least five people who still want you and need you in their lives. (Don’t tell yourself no one needs you or would even miss you. That is the enemy feeding you lies!).  Is it a spouse? Someone at your place of fellowship or a special Bible Study? A parent? A coworker or neighbor? Other children or grandchildren?

What are some things you know that are in their future that it might be kind of nice to be there to see, or be part of? Write those things down next to their names.

Put that in a place where you will see it once in a while, and even continue to add to it as you think of people or events. Eventually, you will realize you no longer need the paper.

I understand you may have the thought, “My child should be part of these things, too! Why would I want to be there without him or her?”

Unfortunately, you cannot change that, and I know it hurts! But you can get to the place where the gladness of still being here with those you love will sometimes outweigh the pain of knowing your child is missing these earthly events, because you know that he or she is part of the glorious heavenly ones.

So, if you are like I was for many years, not wanting to be here anymore, just know that you are not the only one! And know that there is hope to get beyond it. If I can, you can, too.  You can have hope that it won’t always be like this. That is, unless you continue to choose to remain in the blackness of deep grief here on earth – which I hope you don’t because that is an even a more miserable place to be.

It will probably take longer than you think it should or want it to, and there can be many “setbacks,” but I can tell you, it is worth the fight. It is worth it to keep going; it is worth learning how to live a good life again here on earth until you are greeted by your child with a huge hug and the words, “You did great. I am so proud of you. Welcome home, Dad!”  or “Welcome home, Mom!”

For I am about to do something new.  See, I have already
begun!  Do you not see it?  I will make a pathway through
the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.
Isaiah 43:19 (NLT)

 

There is much more to this topic, which Laura shares on the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast. Click here to listen, or find the podcast on your favorite app and look for episode 217: I Don’t Want to Be Here Anymore Without My Child.

This blog and the podcast mentioned above were taken from Laura’s book Reflections of Hope: Daily Readings for Bereaved Parents. To find out more, click here.

Would you like to receive a Weekly Word of Hope written and sent by Laura? Let her know below. Your email address is safe with GPS Hope.

 

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). The founders, Dave and Laura Diehl, travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, and bringing intimate weekend retreats to bereaved parents. Laura is also a singer/songwriter and the author of multiple award-winning books.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

 

• Check out the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope weekly podcast
• Subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel. 
• If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us on our private Facebook page or our public Facebook page. 
• If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.

After our daughter, Becca, died, I knew there was no word that could even come close to describing my pain. At the same time, I wondered why there is not a word for those of us who are still here after the death of our child. Someone who has lost their parents is an orphan. My son-in-law became a widower, and of course, a woman whose husband has died is called a widow.

This started to really bother me.

I did a search to see if I could find something. Nothing came up at the time. Since then, there is a word I have seen around here and there, which I talk about on the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast (episode 216 where this specific blog came from).

When we hear the word widow or orphan about someone, we know what type of life-changing loss they have experienced. But when telling someone about our loss, it is along the line of, “Her child died.” There is no word that identifies the devastating, horrific, heart shattering traumatic loss in our lives.

When we lose a child, it changes our identity, even if we still have other children still here with us. It especially changes our identity if you have lost your only child, or all your children.

Even though all our journeys are different, when you meet someone who has lost a child, there is an instant connection. It doesn’t matter what different beliefs we might have politically, spiritually, or otherwise. There is something that pulls our hearts together because you are someone who can relate to me in a way very few others can. You know what it is like to experience this loss that is like no other loss.

I think it is important to have a word that validates the fact that parents who have lost a child through death have a weight that is extremely heavy…heavier than most will experience in this life. Not as a label to give us permission to wallow in our deep sorrow, but one that draws us together to be able to strengthen and encourage each other within our life-long club membership that none of us wanted.

So, just who are we after the death of our child? Is there a word that unites us? A word that at least implies the depth of our pain?

I believe there is, and it is the word pareavor.

“Reave” comes from the word bereave. According to Merriam-Webster the meaning/definition of the actual word “reave” is: to plunder or rob, to deprive one of, to seize, to carry or tear away.

I think those are some pretty good descriptions of how we felt when our child died.

So, if we take away the “be” in bereave and replace it with a “pa” (because “pa” comes from the word parent: a person who is a father or mother; a person who has a child (Merriam-Webster)), we get pareave.

Then when you add an “or”  at the end (indicating a person who does something (Wiktionary)) you get the word pareavor.

The word pareavor sounds like a pretty good description of what happens when our child dies, no matter the age of the child. We are parents who have been deprived of our children who were seized and torn away from us through death. We are pareavors.

Who am I? I am a teacher, an author, a podcaster host, a singer/songwriter, full time RVer; I am a wife, a daughter, a mom, a grandma, an aunt, a niece, a friend, a cousin, a cat-lover, and… I am a pareavor. A parent who was violently robbed of my daughter’s life – a parent bereaved of my child.

Let me say that I am sorry you have a reason to even consider this as an option in your life as a description of who you are now as well.

No matter what words we use, either to try and describe what it is like or to specifically identify ourselves as someone who has faced the devastation of child loss, we are still all in this together.

We are pareavors – parents who are bereaved of our child. They may have been ripped away from us here on earth, which causes tremendous pain, but thankfully, it is not a permanent separation.

This was taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast, episode 216. To listen to more than what was shared in this blog, click here, or find the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

 

Would you like to receive a Weekly Word of Hope written and sent by Laura? Let her know below. Your email address is safe with GPS Hope.

 

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). The founders, Dave and Laura Diehl, travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, and bringing intimate weekend retreats to bereaved parents. Laura is also a singer/songwriter and the author of multiple award-winning books.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

 

• Check out the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope weekly podcast
• Subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel. 
• If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us on our private Facebook page or our public Facebook page. 
• If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.