Last weekend, I went on a hike with family. The hike was a bit longer than we’d expected. The last uphill mile… so excruciating! We stopped to catch our breath more than once. It would have been easier to sit down on a rock and stay there, but if we did that, we’d have never gotten back to the car. After much huffing, puffing, sweating, and legs that felt like jelly, we made it. Lunch in a nearby town never tasted better!
Grief work can feel this way.
The past few days, I’ve been doing some deep grief work—a homework assignment I gave myself. The topic of forgiveness came up in a book I’ve been re-reading, and I’d come to realize I need to forgive myself on a deeper level—not just logically/intellectually, but on an emotional/heart level. Yes, I know I did all I could, and it’s not my fault that my son died. I’ve let go of guilt for seeing the signs and not being able to stop him.
But after nearly three years on this grief hike, I’ve still had many conflicting emotions bubbling up.
I’m working on forgiving myself for finding joy again, even though he’s gone. On the Alliance of Hope Forum, I made a post titled Life is Good, and it is. I would give anything to have my boy back. Anything! But I don’t miss the emotional anguish that his mental illness wrought for him and those who loved him. I didn’t realize just how much his illness had consumed my thoughts day-to-day until I went back through my journals and made a list of the things that happened, and the things we did to try to help. The list was several pages!
As I took a step back and looked over the list, I said to myself, “No wonder you were so exhausted and overwhelmed. Of course, you feel relief. Not that he’s gone, but that the anguish of watching him suffer has ended. Those last few years of his life were like walking through a field of land mines. You never knew when an explosion would happen. An event. A meltdown. You were on constant watch, heart racing, mind running, heart hurting… It’s over. You can rest now. He’s at rest. It’s okay to miss him and feel joy at the same time.”
This is the conversation I had with myself. I feel a weight lifted and a new spark of healing in my heart.
Thank you for letting me share.
