Her grief would become a lifelong companion, but in the form of missing her son without losing herself. Who she once was would never be again, although remnants of her would surface throughout her life occasionally . . . When Grief Became Her by Lori Weatherly
I was trying to explain this concept to a co-worker the other day. When I told her that grief would always be a part of my life, she looked at me puzzled and asked “Don’t you want to move on?” There is no short or easy answer to that question.
I wish it never happened. I wish that I had never felt the grief of losing my son. I wish that I was the person that I was when I married my husband of three and a half years. But, it did, and I have, and I am not. Two years ago, it happened. In the last two years I have lived through grief that I did not think possible to live through. In the last two years, I have become a new version of me.
How does one move on from this type of life changing event? Do I even want to move on? If I “moved on”, if I somehow I became the person I was before, then I would not miss him. And I do, more than I can express.
There have been times that this grief has threatened to overcome me and completely overtake me. I fought the grief; I struggled to be who I was, to be “normal”. I have come to realize, that I can’t fight what is. Once I stopped fighting, a peace has over come me.This is my new normal; this grief is woven into the fabric of my life.
My new self, misses my son terribly. My new self struggles a bit more with anxiety. My new self finds itself crying in an aisle of Wal-Mart because I can’t pick up the phone and call my son. My new self has survived the most terrible grief I could ever imagine. My new self carries some of the best parts of my old self. My new self feels more. My new self loves deeper. My new self has felt the unchanging love of my husband. My new self is stronger. My new self has more compassion. My new self has a new understanding of my Heavenly Father and just how much he grieves with me. My new self can say, “God is good all the time”, with a new understanding.
Pain changes a person and although the cause of the pain is often a terrible tragedy, the change a person experiences is not necessarily a bad thing.
I am not who I was before by Sarah
So do I want to move on? Not really, even if I could.
As I wrote this I realized that the 9th of this month will be 2 years to the day that Jason was admitted to the hospital. He was revived 2 times during that night. I re-read the Caring Bridge page and remembered some of the sweet conversations (even though short) Jason and I had before he was discharged. I am forever grateful for those extra 26 days that God granted us.