Growth

We are reaching a place that I have dreaded . In just a few weeks, Ezra will be older than Canaan ever got . As I rejoice in the growth of my sweet  youngest boy, I try not to dwell on the fact that what should be well-travelled territory is instead shaky ground. We are growing together-up, and out of grief. Signs of Canaan abound . Last week, I saw a verse from one of his favorite book and heard his voice in my head all day.

Rage

Today, I'm filled with rage. I'm angry that my son is dead. I'm angry that he isn't here beside me coated with sweat in humidity so dense you can touch it, with his curly hair standing around his head like a halo. I'm angry that his brother plays alone in his kiddie pool. I'm angry that my husband is too afraid of allowing our son around open water to go to the beach with us. I'm angry that pictures of Canaan make me cry. I'm angry that his beautiful, perfect life is over and my ugly one is still going. There is no good reason for the loss of a child; there is no full healing. Time doesn't heal all wounds. It dulls them a bit. I am filled with regret that our lives are like something that has been broken and put back together again-we're functional again but will never be quite whole.

Howling

I've heard it said that grief is like an amputation. The only way this is accurate would be if one's heart and solar plexus could be amputated and still allow life. Grief is like a black hole. Grief is like a shell. Grief starts below the breastbone and spirals outward until it can be felt in the toenails and hair. My son was a beautiful, vibrant ray of light and now he is lost to me. He is now "the presence of things hoped for but not seen". Without him, I cannot think in a linear fashion. I cannot articulate. I am pure Id much of the time; raw feeling on the surface and nothing beneath. There is no way to mourn that is right, appropriate, proper, timely, "nice"-any of that. Mourning is ugly; it lets a person's most inner despairs out to howl at the sky. Outside, I seem subdued, but rest assured-I too am howling.

Introduction

Welcome. This blog will focus mainly on grief, bereavement and the healing process. Thank you for reading.