journeying through grief
“I will not hide my grief, as I did not hide my love.” -Lindsey Henke Grief is an interesting beast. I get through my days. I can’t say that I ever have “good” days because right now, that just doesn’t exist. I cry every day because I miss Jackson. Some days are better than others, but then there are those moments that take me by storm and knock me off my feet. I was getting along fine last Sunday morning. We were at church, and I was flipping through the program. They started promoting Palm Fest, which is a very fun family day, the Sunday before Easter. There are lots of games for the kids, a magician, baby sheep to pet and a huge Easter egg hunt. I saw “PALM FEST” in big, bold letters and out of nowhere I just started crying. And it continued all...
a life lesson from my six-year-old
I have a necklace that I wear every single day. It has two charms on it. One is oval-shaped and has Jackson’s right thumbprint on the front, and his name and birthday are engraved on the back. The other is an angel wing that a dear friend gave me after Jackson moved to Heaven. I don’t ever take them off. Yesterday, Kate was staring at my necklace and asked, “Mom, why do you wear that all the time, even in the water?” “This one is Jackson’s thumbprint. I wear it so that I can feel like he’s with me all the time.” “Mom, you know he’s with you all the time.” I just stared at Kate for a minute in silence. “You’re right, Kate. I love you so much!” Wow. The life lessons that I learn from my six-year-old are pretty amazing. Sometimes, I feel like it’s actually Jackson...
wrapping for one…
On Kate’s last day of school before the Christmas break, my “to-do” list is crazy long. I’ve got to get so much done before she returns home. Item number one on the list is wrapping Santa’s gifts. As I sit down and start organizing and cutting and taping with Santa’s special paper, it hits me like a ton of bricks. This year I’m only wrapping for one. Not two. And then the tears start flowing. That’s how it’s been working these days. I’ll be doing okay during the day, getting through, then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, something sparks a memory of Jackson, and it’s all downhill from there. It just hurts. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Your child isn’t supposed to die before you. They’re not. We’re supposed to be a happy family of four. Jackson...
giving thanks
I feel empty. This time of year, that shouldn’t be the case, but when you’ve lost part of your heart, it’s inevitable. I’m making it through this holiday season one step at a time, but it’s hard. My shoes are heavy and filled with so much grief that it makes each step feel like I’m carrying a one ton weight. Obviously, Thanksgiving was tough. Eric, Kate and I were in Louisiana visiting family for the holiday. and everywhere I looked I was reminded that a huge part of our family isn’t with us. I would watch Kate running around with her cousins, and I envisioned Jackson right there with them with a huge smile on his face. He would have been right in the middle of the action doing whatever the big kids were doing. He would have been making them laugh, chasing...
hope
I was sitting in the quiet of my house this morning while Kate slept soundly in my bed, remembering what my mornings used to be. Jackson liked to wake up early. He would call out “Mama, Mama” sometimes around 6:00, sometimes around 4 and often in between. It was difficult to get out of my warm bed, but once I did, I didn’t look back. I would open his door, see his smile and forget all about dreamland. I relished mornings with my buddy, even at the craziest of early mornings. He would usually be sitting in his bed, with all five binkies in hand, waiting for me. We would reach for each other and snuggle for a moment. I would make him return four of the five binkies back to the bed so we wouldn’t lose them. (Yes, I realized he was probably getting a little too...
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