I have a very talented lady here today to tell us all about her new book, Mom's Search for Meaning: Grief and Growth After Child Loss. Now living in Los Angeles with her daughter Grace, Melissa M. Monroe was born in Yuma, AZ. She attended Loyola University in Chicago. After finishing at Loyola, she studied modern dance at University of Chicago. In 1995, she moved to California to train in Pilates, yoga, and acupuncture, which she practices as a professional.
Website: http://www.melissamariemonroe.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/tripleMMeaning
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MelissaMarieMonroeAuthor
Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@triplemmeaning
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/melissammonroe/
As a book bloggin’ and book luvin’ Princess, I’m always curious to find out how authors got the ideas for their books. Can you tell us how you got the idea to write your book?
I began to blog about a month after my two-year-old daughter Alice died in her sleep of unknown causes (SUDC) because I could barely speak, and folks wanted to know how I was doing. They also wanted to know what happened. I thought some friends and family would read the blog, and I’d save my breath and sanity because re-telling the story over and over was traumatizing. But the blog took on a life of its own, something I didn’t expect. Eventually, my friend Teresa Strasser (author of Making It Home) ordered me to turn it into a book and send her chapters, and I always (sometimes) do what I’m told.
Can you give us an excerpt?
It was a heavy moment, but the ashes themselves were not heavy and did not take up much space. My mind could not grasp that my child, who not seven days before was running around the playground at school, following her sister around, and begging for more “gogurt!” was contained in this pouch.
Silent.
Forever.
There are no words for the feelings I experienced at that moment, but the feeling of love was predominant.
When everything we love turns to ash, all we have is love. I began to realize that if I marched toward the love — even on a day when I felt like shit — I would always be guided and surrounded by love. If I cursed the path, I wouldn’t see the love that was all around me and would find a cursed path.
When Alice died, it became crystal clear to me that nothing matters but love. That clarity was notable because not one other thing was clear. But more importantly, I began to see that love doesn’t die. My love for Alice went nowhere; I just didn’t know what to do with all that love when her body was no longer here, when I could not interact with her personality or hug her chubby belly. It was clear to me my love for her survived though her body did not. I could still feel her, though I couldn’t see or touch her. Grief is love in the absence of the recipient of the love.
Grief is the phantom limb of love.
This meant I had to learn how to love someone no longer here ... and to do that, I had to focus on the love that was here. And there was so much love around me, thank God.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would that be?
Publish sooner! I would say to be more courageous about publishing. I
sat on many essays and poems for decades before working up the nerve to
submit them.
Do you hear from your readers? What do they say?
Fortunately, I have received hundreds, if not thousands, of
supportive notes over the years. Most express their condolences about
Alice and tell me how a particular phrase in the book helped them with
their losses. One of the most surprising things about sharing my writing
with the world is the beautiful community it has unwittingly built.
What has been your best accomplishment?
Mothering my two girls, Alice and Grace, is my best accomplishment by a landslide.
How many unpublished and half-finished books do you have?
I feel like you can see the eleventy-hundred open tabs on my computer
right now! I have enough material for another memoir, which will be
more specific about my spiritual journey. I am also toying with an idea
for a picture book on a non-grief topic. I am currently focused on
publishing companion pieces and short essays in national magazines.
Fun question – if you were princess or prince, what’s one thing you would do to make your kingdom a better place?
Oh, I love this question! If I were a princess, I would put at least
one trauma therapist in every school, and we would learn conflict
resolution every year from Kindergarten until we go to the Great
Beyond.
I began to blog about a month after my two-year-old daughter Alice died in her sleep of unknown causes (SUDC) because I could barely speak, and folks wanted to know how I was doing. They also wanted to know what happened. I thought some friends and family would read the blog, and I’d save my breath and sanity because re-telling the story over and over was traumatizing. But the blog took on a life of its own, something I didn’t expect. Eventually, my friend Teresa Strasser (author of Making It Home) ordered me to turn it into a book and send her chapters, and I always (sometimes) do what I’m told.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would that be?
Publish sooner! I would say to be more courageous about publishing. I
sat on many essays and poems for decades before working up the nerve to
submit them.
Do you hear from your readers? What do they say?
Fortunately, I have received hundreds, if not thousands, of
supportive notes over the years. Most express their condolences about
Alice and tell me how a particular phrase in the book helped them with
their losses. One of the most surprising things about sharing my writing
with the world is the beautiful community it has unwittingly built.
What has been your best accomplishment?
Mothering my two girls, Alice and Grace, is my best accomplishment by a landslide.
How many unpublished and half-finished books do you have?
I feel like you can see the eleventy-hundred open tabs on my computer right now! I have enough material for another memoir, which will be more specific about my spiritual journey. I am also toying with an idea for a picture book on a non-grief topic. I am currently focused on publishing companion pieces and short essays in national magazines.
Fun question – if you were princess or prince, what’s one thing you would do to make your kingdom a better place?
Oh, I love this question! If I were a princess, I would put at least
one trauma therapist in every school, and we would learn conflict
resolution every year from Kindergarten until we go to the Great
Beyond.
It was a heavy moment, but the ashes themselves were not heavy and did not take up much space. My mind could not grasp that my child, who not seven days before was running around the playground at school, following her sister around, and begging for more “gogurt!” was contained in this pouch.
Silent.
Forever.
There are no words for the feelings I experienced at that moment, but the feeling of love was predominant.
When everything we love turns to ash, all we have is love. I began to realize that if I marched toward the love — even on a day when I felt like shit — I would always be guided and surrounded by love. If I cursed the path, I wouldn’t see the love that was all around me and would find a cursed path.
When Alice died, it became crystal clear to me that nothing matters but love. That clarity was notable because not one other thing was clear. But more importantly, I began to see that love doesn’t die. My love for Alice went nowhere; I just didn’t know what to do with all that love when her body was no longer here, when I could not interact with her personality or hug her chubby belly. It was clear to me my love for her survived though her body did not. I could still feel her, though I couldn’t see or touch her. Grief is love in the absence of the recipient of the love.
Grief is the phantom limb of love.
This meant I had to learn how to love someone no longer here ... and to do that, I had to focus on the love that was here. And there was so much love around me, thank God.
About Mom's Search for Meaning: Grief and Growth After Child Loss
Struggling to advance her timeline beyond that of her daughter’s – and still eager to be the keeper of Alice’s stories – Melissa began to write about Alice’s life and the impact of her death. She became her own lab rat, trying various approaches to healing with the hope that her experience might be helpful to others stuck in a trauma time loop.
As much a study of trauma’s effect on time perception as it is an intimate view into the heart and mind of a bereaved mother, Mom’s Search for Meaning shows us that meaning resides in the search itself…with a spoonful of gallows humor to help the medicine go down.
Praise:
“Melissa doesn’t just say the way out is through, she very much takes us through what that looks like. And in being so specific, I think it’s universally relatable. The final chapter is “To be, or not to be”-level work. This is mom-loss Shakespeare.” Teresa Strasser, author of Exploiting My Baby, the upcoming Making It Home, and co-host of the syndicated TV show The List
“Melissa’s book provides powerful testimony to the strength of the human spirit and our vulnerable, complicated, and yet inspirational ability to heal.” Kim Cookson, Psy.D., founder of the Trauma and Resiliency Training and Services Program at the Southern California Counseling Center
“It is the story of how one person found her way – with grief and with pain, but also with humor and grace – back to a life that would be forever different, but which couldn’t be, and wouldn’t be, anything less than purposeful and honest.” Dan Koeppel, author of To See Every Bird on Earth, Banana: The Fate of the Fruit That Changed the World, and Every Minute is a Day
“The explorations of compassion are deep, Melissa’s march toward love is inspiring, and the writing is beautiful. It is a book about child loss that – at times – made me laugh out loud. I will never stop thinking about this book. And I am so glad.” Liz Friedlander, film and television director
Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yrmuumc6
Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/mryd9z7s
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/123189454
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