I'm decorating the Christmas tree today. My husband
hangs magnolia garlands on the porch and gate. Such
a perfect time of year for us until the loss of my son.
Today I begin to sob uncontrollably as I hold
the decoration my son made when he was seven.
I reclaim a life out of ashes, this year the difference is
my grief doesn’t take my day. My husband comes in,
holds me for a long time and we weep together. No
words. None needed.
People count on us to be strong and go on. I see the progress
I have made in this grief, deep and sorrowful ,that catches up
with me no matter how long its been or how strong I feel.
This is my world. I cry, I sob, I wail if I have to but then,
I get back to life and my day isn’t over. I remember him
with love, I revisit that dark place where all the pain comes
from but I come back to this light and the life that is mine.
I’ll only relinquish so much to the power of death.
My son’s absence will change me for life, so will every other loss
I suffer to some degree, but the side of me it brings out , years
after his death, is one I’m proud of. One that I know didn’t exist
before. One that can weep and carry on, be sad but see the beauty,
be tripped up with grief, blindsided by the pain, but yet move forward.
I am reminded each time I rise that I can do anything now, I’ve been
through the worst and I‘m still here.