I struggled with a title for today’s post, but couldn’t find one that wouldn’t have some level of discord to it. I don’t ever want to offend anyone, but what I do want to do is move people to think differently. Differently about grief. Differently about how you grieve. Differently about how you treat people who are grieving.

Recently I was discussing grief with a good friend and the conversation came to a place that I don’t think I have been able to convey verbally to anyone.  She explained to me that when your child dies a physical, spiritual and mental part of you dies too. And I can say that without a doubt she hit the nail on the head. The very concept is what I have had my biggest struggle with when it comes to communicating my pain to my family and friends.

So often we want our grieving loved ones to “get over it” or “move on” or better yet get back to your “old self”. So we grievers we try and try to “get over it” and to “move on” but you simply cannot. Life is not the same. It will never be the same. Everything you knew to be true is gone. Everything you hoped for has been destroyed. It’s as if you have been sucked up into a vacuum of nothingness. A vast cesspool of life.

So what do you do? You try and find some sense of it all and recreate who you are to be now. And I can tell you without a doubt for me, it has been the most difficult part of my journey. Finding out the new me. What my purpose is here on earth. Why I am here still I do not know.

I feel like life is passing by so very quickly and I keep looking for the open door to go through to my new life. Yet each door is locked. I reach out in faith to turn that doorknob and it simply doesn’t turn. My face flat against the door sobbing and crying out to God “which door” “what do you want from me” “why can’t I find the right door”?

I remember writing once “There is a fine line between the space I exist and the space I want to be.” That is how I see my life now. Existing in a space I don’t want to be, and unable to cross over to the space I need to be.

Until next time

m