Journey
The journey through grief is a windy road. The twists and turns continue throughout our lives. When the loss is new, the pain is excruciating.
I remember standing outside and looking up at the sky and pleading for Adam to come back… pleading for him to reveal himself. Where did he go? I saw him in the eagles soaring, the rabbits, the reflection of sunlight on the water. Every drop of nature reflected Adam to me. The air seemed to form tiny crystals and I saw him in them. I felt the breeze like his breath. I believed in all of these manifestations and they comforted me.
The pain eased. It now comes in the form of a wave… unexpected reminders that stir the embers. Sometimes a rogue wave will hit me and I call out to him. The shower is a great place for this… the sound of my cry disguised by the running water. Emerging to blow dry and dress… tears washed away for the moment.
The worst part of grief as the years pass is the missing. Missing his voice, his skin, his laughter and all of the traits that were uniquely Adam’s.
I am dredging today – because tomorrow I walk for suicide prevention and I am remembering. I will see the sorrow on the faces of the other survivors and they will see mine. I will remember Adam. My beautiful son, who left this earth too soon.
Christmas is Here: Hold on Tight
Jack Frost, Adam's Favorite Christmas Ornament
The tree is trimmed, lights are on the house, a wreath at the front door. Cards arriving… unwritten cards in a box waiting for my attention. I can’t seem to pick up a telephone to call a friend, nor a pen to write a note. I’m doing what I need to do, but I feel like I’m walking through a pea-soup fog.
On January 11, it will be two years since my beautiful boy passed from this world. I still can’t believe it. It hits me most when I am in the car or in the shower. That’s when I cry the most.
I thank God for the strength to continue to live and to love. I’m incredibly blessed with my loving son, Andre, who makes me laugh, and gives me hope. I’m blessed with a family of strong survivors who know what matters. We don’t focus on pettiness in our family, we’ve lost too much. We’re holding on tight.
5 Roses
Thursday was my birthday, and all day I thought of Adam. I think that wherever he is, he was thinking of me, because I felt him so strongly. Read more
Recommended Reading
Adam was one year old in this photo.
Here is a short reading list of books that have helped me to cope with grief. Read more
