It takes more than will power to stop thinking of someone you have loved and lost. I could see that in the slump of his shoulders and the way his feet were set close together. He had tried, in a burst of energetic resolve. But it would take more than that, to stop. Whatever new beauties he would discover in the world would still, for a long time and maybe for his whole life, not be quite enough to keep his memories away. —JOSEPHINE HUMPHRIES
Everyone is on their own unique journey in life. Especially those of us who are trying to find our way after losing a child.
Those ahead of me provide hope, but their path is unique to their child and their life. At one time, I admit I was in a hurry to catch up to them but I am finding that I must take my knocks and find my own way.
For those behind me, never ever follow me. My anger masks my debilitating sorrow and helplessness. While my faith in some has vanished, there are others who have shown me endless compassion. I only write about what continues to cause me pain.
It is still too painful for me to go back to the once upon a time when my family was complete.
Does life truly hold the possibility to absorb this devastating loss of my youngest child?
Will the ocean, a snowfall, a sunset, the first flower in spring ever hold the same peace and joy?
Will the day ever come when my thoughts don’t scream Amy died?
Will I ever feel equal to those whom exist around me?
Will the twisting pain ever quiet down in my heart and mind?
I will forever be grateful that Amy is my daughter.
I will forever be grateful for the time when Amy was here in the way children are supposed to be present in our life.
I will openly acknowledge the gift of the time we spent together, but never ever will I allow anyone to preach the whys to me to rationalize my daughter’s death. Believe me, I have earnestly searched for answers but realize they left this dimension with Amy.
Today, like yesterday, I am allowing the loss of my daughter to sink in a little further. A new layer of my grief has been exposed and it continues to hurt.
There certainly are many layers to processing this unnatural type of loss which only time can expose. The passage of time is not progress in all instances. But in years, I repeat years, I am hopeful that I will be coping better.
Life is no bowl of cherries. It’s difficult for a former control freak to finally realize how truly powerless I am over my lifetime quest for true happiness. Not even the experts would criticize my change of heart now. Even they would agree I have suffered one of the worst tragedies. Total game of life changer.
My family’s history is etched in stone. Our family tree holds a tragedy which I long to rewrite. So it is written without my consent.
Again and again, I need to remind myself that grief is not a willful choice. During the early months, I was advised to lean into my grief, but I fought it. Today grief is winning and I am still praying for a better tomorrow. It won’t be great, but the potential for improvement is indeed possible. But it takes a hell of a long time. Based on everyone I have met along the way who carries this invisible wound, I don’t believe anyone else who says otherwise.
Always remembering Amy.