I learned years ago to actively practice bringing my thoughts to the present moment, particularly when my mind goes to some wicked place and even sometimes when it goes to a beautiful memory. There is no predictability in grieving. This practice of being in the present moment has been life-saving for me, literally. But sometimes my heart yearns for the lost moments. Do you ever have one of those days when you need the past? A little sliver of light is shining on the memory of reading stories to my son. I can see us there, settled in among the pillows and stuffed animals, my head laying next to his on the pillow, book in hand. Then, I would read with active voice the stories so they jump from the page and become real. What a wonderful beautiful memory, vivid with sound and color. I hear his laughs and questions and our discussions on the meaning of the stories. Oh, how I want to bring it all back to being real, being here and now. An evenin...
A journey with grief & sorrow, struggle & survival and life after the death of our only child.