Good day, #LadiesOfHive! Wishing everyone a fantastic day and hope that everyone is in excellent health!
Amazingly, life may lift our spirits and bring us joy. We invite a great deal of delight and a happier way of being into our lives when we approach them with curiosity, humility, and presence. It might be detrimental to our potential to reflect on the past since it keeps us from experiencing happiness and living life to the fullest. Unfavorable can be alluring at first, but after we've grown past them, they don't mean much. Pleasant recollections, on the other hand, are inherently loving, caring, and supportive. They provide us with self-assurance, peace of mind, and self-control, which enable us to cherish each moment as a priceless gift and look forward to an exciting prospect.
My Son's Demise
The loss of a treasured loved one is a deeply upsetting event. The trauma of losing my son, CJ, to septic shock, along with his developmental problems and physical challenges, left me completely devastated. I thought I'd never be able to find joy in life again. However, as time passed, the healing process allowed me to carve out a new life for myself—one that I believe would have made my son proud.
The essence of one’s life is not measured by its duration, but by the profound impact it leaves behind. My son CJ, despite facing challenges due to his disabilities, enriched the lives of my family, friends, and countless others during his 24 years on this earth. His presence brought immeasurable depth and meaning to our lives.
During the following weeks and months, I found myself grappling with the daunting prospect of carrying on without my son, CJ. How could I continue living my life without him by my side, or whether I even wanted to? Each day was marked by relentless tears and the unanswerable question: why did this happen so suddenly? CJ is not just a part of my life, but my entire world, my reason for being. What does life even mean without him?
The Process Of Moving Forward
My son's death shakes me to the core. About six months later, it happened...the first time I smiled. I remember pausing and thinking to myself, "How can I be smiling? My son is gone, and I’m smiling." I felt guilty. But then I realized that my smile didn't mean I had forgotten he was gone. It didn't make the pain in my heart, hurt any less, and it didn't make me miss him any less. What it did mean is that I was still alive and that I could miss him, be heartbroken, and be in pain, yet still experience joy.
CJ wants no part of my angst. Knowing my son, I know he would not want me to live a life of endless sorrow. Just as I had to embrace pain and suffering, I also had to accept joy and happiness once more. I had to come to terms with the fact that it was healthy for me to laugh and enjoy life even when I was depressed and in tears. Working on this endeavor is not simple. It's almost like riding on a roller coaster, which is ironic given how much I dislike them.
Even though my son passed away almost a year ago, it's perfectly fine for me to shed tears, but it's also perfectly fine for me to find joy in laughter. I am not betraying my son or his memory by continuing to embrace life. It would be the opposite, as the deep love we shared demands that I honor our relationship by refusing to let my life slip away in darkness. The first day I laughed after CJ’s passing was the day I realized there was HOPE.
Light At The End Of The Tunnel
I discovered so much about myself, about death, and love. On that dreadful day, I believed I had understood everything about life, love, relationships, and heartbreak. I was mistaken. The intriguing thing about death is that it doesn't separate two people. Death never prevails.
Over the last ten months, it has felt like holding onto a tiny speck of dust that I should just let go of. During this time, I have discovered comfort in moments of taking deep breaths, finding solace in embracing the enduring strength that has been gifted to me.
When people inquire about how I'm coping and moving forward without CJ, I often find myself at a loss for words. It's not that I don't want to provide a more comforting response, but the truth is, I'm unsure. It's a complex and difficult situation, and I wish I had a more definitive answer to give.
Losing a child is an experience that defies easy explanations. There are no straightforward guidelines to navigate the aftermath. Grieving for a lost child doesn't adhere to a linear progression where one day, you wake up and feel triumphant as you've completed a journey of strengthening. The process of coping with such a loss is not a finite one; it extends throughout a lifetime.
I guess I have burned lavishly of your time. I am delighted to impart a small chunk about me with you and I am thrilled about heading toward this amazing avenue with all of you!
Thank you for fetching around my blog and checking out the post. Catch you on my next blog.
About The Author
A feisty artist and writer who balances her time penning poetry, soul-stirring content and flash fiction, sketching, and designing by using fresh blossoms, needlework, gardening, baking, and caring for her partially impaired vision Mom after her intellectually and physically challenged son passed away. She explores unexpected views that ignite her zest for life.