I used to love this time of the year. Now it's like rubbing salt in an open wound.

In the beginning, after your child has died, you often hear or read about the “firsts”; occasions or events that occur for the first time since your child’s death. We have now come to a year and a few months later and are going through the same events for the second time. The second time is agony.

The one year anniversary of our daughter’s death is only 2 weeks away. We are stunned by this fact. It can’t possibly be that she has been gone this long and we feel worse today than we did when it happened.

I call it the ball and jar analogy. Often I find myself referring back to it when I need help with my grieving, which includes my levels of patience and tolerance. This is my interpretation.

How do can we possibly give thanks when our child has died?

What is the correct etiquette for thanking people for all of their kindnesses after your child dies? Do we have to thank everyone individually? Is there a time frame in which we should thank people? What do we say? And when?

How do you help your young child face their own mortality?

For a long time you think that there is no one else on earth that could feel like you do and that there is no one who will ever understand. You begin to wonder if maybe you’re alone in this world and that there isn’t a person or a place to which you can turn to find some small bit of solace.

Last week, I caved. I compromised my goals in order to keep my sanity. This week I can write about it.

My pain is worse than anyone can imagine. How can I possibly feel compassion toward their loss? Learning to identify, not compare, the pain of losing a loved one.