My son took his life on December 14, 2018.
I spent the first year posting my journey on Facebook. I share when I am at my worst, the most vulnerable and hold nothing back. Today, I want to share some posts, my grief, from throughout the year and how I navigated it.
My wish for you is that you will find some hope that even though things look and feel horrible, you will get better at handling it. You will still be sad, cry and grieve yet it will be mixed in with happiness, joy and laughter.
1 month:
“Time warp. It has been 30 days since my son left this earth. I don’t know where the time has gone. It makes me anxious not being able to account for what I have done in the past 30 days. It just makes me realize that life flies by all too quickly. It is down to my core to live life intentionally. So that at the end of each day I can put my head down with satisfaction, knowing that I have done something good and accomplished something for the day.”
6 weeks:
“Today’s meditation of Healing After Loss focuses on being alone. I must say it has been difficult at times to go to bed, because I missed my son the most at night. The meditation speaks to the fact that I didn’t spend all my time with my son, just some of it and recently not at night. So why would I be grieving his absence when he wasn’t with me at night? Logically, I can go to bed and not grieve that he isn’t with me at that moment. I can avoid compounding my grief by wishing for something that never was.”
10 weeks:
My son’s birthday
“I love you. I am glad that the demons no longer haunt you. Love Madre”
5 months:
Mother’s Day
“One moment and my life DID change. Grateful for this day, this moment”
8 months:
‘My house is quiet, silent. The silence is weird. I don’t feel sad. I would say it feels peaceful. I keep thinking about the song, “Sounds of Silence” by Simon & Garfunkel.
As I look out onto my deck, I ask myself, what am I supposed to be getting out of this silence? In today’s world, it is so easy to get caught up in the noise of life: TV’s, phones, computers, music, cars, machines, other people’s voices. I don’t have cable and frequently drive without music which drives my daughter C-R-A-Z-Y. She can’t stand the silence. Today the silence is different.
Once again, I am drawn to scripture for my answers.
Psalm 62:5 “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.”
In the silence my mind is empty and open to receive. I feel the still air and see the bright sunshine. In the silence, I can hear the children laughing and playing in the schoolyard. In the silence, my mind is at rest. In the silence, I feel peace and understanding of my surroundings. In the silence I am blessed to be alive. In the silence I feel God’s love. In the silence I rejoice in the day. In the silence, my heart is healing.
#Thehealingcontinues”
11 months:
Thanksgiving
Dared to adventure to the mall. Dared to walk into Zumiez, where I bought a lot of things for my son. Came across a Spitfire beanie like he wore all the time. Lots of memories and tears.
It made me think about all his friends and the time he spent skateboarding. He was very skilled in his ability to ride his board. I loved watching him. He scared the crap out of me once though. He told me he cleared a “12 stair”. For those of you who don’t know what that means, he gained a lot of speed at the top of a set of stairs equivalent to a full flight of stairs, jumped with his board to the bottom and landed on his board, clearing all 12 stairs! Makes me smile now.
Focusing on the good memories.
Made it through one more “first hurdle.”
#Thehealingcontinues”
1 year and 11 days:
After Christmas
“We made it. We made it through our second Christmas without Connor. However, it feels like the first. I was in a trance last year. I was numb. I couldn’t believe how quickly time flew by. The one-week mark came with his memorial service. Christmas Eve was just 10 days after he passed away and just 3 days after his life celebration. I don’t know how I made it through. I honestly don’t remember much about last year. This year I am struggling to remember what I did. It is so weird, because I felt “normal” in the moment and now I can’t recall a darn thing. This thing called grief is deceiving on time and what is normal. Life without my son is the new norm. I am striving to do everything I can to move forward, remember my son and be in the present for my two daughters.”
I hope this helps to see where I started and how far I have come! You can do it!
Read my first 365 days in their entirety. Click here to download.
#griefisajourney
#thehealingcontinues
#grieftohope
#griefrecovery
#suicide
#helpyoumoveforeard
