Guest blogger Scott Newport belongs to a club no parent wants to join – the Bereaved Parents Club. In observance of the month, Scott sent this post and a poem to share with you.
Garden of Grief
by Scott Newport
Did you know July is Bereaved Parents Month? Yeah, I found out the hard way when my son died a couple of years back. Each month that passes I find there is no escape or relief from the grief our family endures. I have found that writing helps me to better understand the sadness and be able to continue on with the ones of us left behind.
One of my poems about grief was published in We Need Not Walk Alone, a magazine published by The Compassionate Friends organization, back in the spring of 2011.
As my Different Dream has come true in life I will continue writing, and I will keep living the dream I never expected or even wanted. But I would never go back to the dream I had before Evan.
Anyway, in honor of this month I wanted to share the poem about grief with you.
Grief is like a wild vine growing
It thrives in all conditions
Drought or floods have little effect
As I see the serpent navigate
I wonder if the new buds emerging
Are going to be venomous flowers
Or another shoot-
Headed in another direction
Each thread of its being
Searches for cracks to fill
Or innocent prey
Soon to be entangled in its hold
I tried to prune it one day
But all it did was become
Stronger, my mistake
Leave a Comment for Scott and other Bereaved Parents
Many of us don’t belong to the Bereaved Parents Club, so we don’t know how Scott and other members of the club feel. But we can leave messages of support for them, messages to remind them that people care about them, their children who died, and their grief journey. So leave a comment for Scott and other parents living a very different parenting dream than they expected.
Thanks, Scott, for sharing your heart with us!
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Susan,
I am so sorry to hear of your tragic losses. May Scott’s words give you some measure of comfort.
Jolene
Susan,
I am so sorry to hear of your tragic losses. May Scott’s words give you some measure of comfort.
Jolene
I joined this club in 1998 when my fullterm stillborn daughter, Lydia arrived. I re-newed my membership when my fullterm still born son, Davin arrived in 2004.
I joined this club in 1998 when my fullterm stillborn daughter, Lydia arrived. I re-newed my membership when my fullterm still born son, Davin arrived in 2004.
Janet,
Thank you for you sweet comment. I’m so glad you were spared becoming a member of this sad club.
Jolene
Janet,
Thank you for you sweet comment. I’m so glad you were spared becoming a member of this sad club.
Jolene
Sara,
I’m so sorry to hear of your loss and so glad Scott’s poem spoke to you. Your grief is something I can not imagine.
Peace,
Jolene
Sara,
I’m so sorry to hear of your loss and so glad Scott’s poem spoke to you. Your grief is something I can not imagine.
Peace,
Jolene
Dear Scott,
Thank you for sharing your lovely, sad, beautiful, powerful poem, I do not belong to the Bereaved Parents Club and I thank God every single day as we came very close to being members a few years back. But i’m happy to say I am not. I am so very sorry for you and your families great loss. I hope you continue to write, it has been very therapeutic for me. Best wishes to all and I sure hope that your angel is watching over you all.
Dear Scott,
Thank you for sharing your lovely, sad, beautiful, powerful poem, I do not belong to the Bereaved Parents Club and I thank God every single day as we came very close to being members a few years back. But i’m happy to say I am not. I am so very sorry for you and your families great loss. I hope you continue to write, it has been very therapeutic for me. Best wishes to all and I sure hope that your angel is watching over you all.
Scott that is truly beautiful, I lost my daughter nearly four years ago. Not a day goes by without the pain of missing her. My grief is like that wild vine, sometimes it’s so tightly bound I find it hard to breathe.
Scott that is truly beautiful, I lost my daughter nearly four years ago. Not a day goes by without the pain of missing her. My grief is like that wild vine, sometimes it’s so tightly bound I find it hard to breathe.