Living with Loss

Yesterday, I took the day off from work.  I needed time to do some things I don't ever get to do, a little time to relax and just be, work in the yard, bake a cake, read a book, run an errand.  Nothing important, other than for my well being. Over the course of this journey so far, I've often heard people ask another if she or he ever felt guilty for enjoying something, for laughing, for having fun and smiling. I never have really, I just thought I was successfully progressing through my grief and growing into the person I am to become.    Oh stupid me. Yesterday, my husband and I were riding in the truck, laughing and enjoying, truly enjoying each other's company.  I don't think I've felt anything like it since 2009.  I was happy to be spending the day with my husband, laughing with him, just being together. It was after the lighthearted laughter that I felt the cut of shame.  How could I?  How could I laugh and be happy in this world?  What wretched beast lau

I subscribe to a grief support email.  The email this morning was about several steps we should take to help continue progressing through our grief journey.  One of the steps was that we must "make a conscious decision each day to move forward."  Some things are easier said than done. This grieving process is a daily walk with life, it's not always a beautiful walk lined with birds and flowers and babbling brooks...sometimes we enter the darkness of the heavy woods where light does not penetrate and sound muffles our thoughts into a simmering mush of misery. Thankfully, the light does ultimately peek through the trees and there shines a glimmer of hope that we may again enter life.  It's that glimmer that keeps us moving, it's that hope that allows us to get up every day and face living without our child. As in nature, our life is not all sunshine; there are cloudy days and weeks, even seasons, but with every season of sorrow, there is a season of rejoicing; one m