Slowly.....slowly.....slowly.

After Jillian's death, life seemed like it could not go on.  I felt purposeless and like I was a wanderer.   I wrestled with my belief system.....'do I really believe what I believe about God, eternity, etc', wrestled with my purpose in life, wrestled with just getting out of bed in the morning, and wrestled with a long list of 'what ifs'.  Every Friday (the day Jillian passed) was emotional for me (and still is, though the sadness now is more of a presence than a deep sorrow).  However, I engrossed myself in reading as many books about losing a child and grief as possible.

Slowly....slowly....I started to regain a sense of purpose and reason of what I need to be doing with my life now that Jillian was no longer a physical part of it.  It has now been over 2 years (27 months) and I now feel like life can continue, but on a higher plane than it was before.  My perspective about life is quite different now. Yet, there are still many days when I recount memories of Jillian or look at pictures of her and I doing something, and the acute pain returns and tears flow.  I believe this will always be the case.  Shouldn't it be?

Society seems to want us to 'move on' and take back control of our lives.  But in reality, we are never in control, only just part of a much bigger picture where everything is weaved together.  This week I was offered a new job.  It was due to the weaving circumstances of Jillian's death that even allowed me this opportunity. I am super excited about it and know that through Jillian's death I have this amazing new opportunity.

To keep things in perspective, I often think of Kahlil Gibran's writing in the Prophet about "children"....

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You can read many of his other writings from his work 'The Prophet' here.

Grief is a process - a journey that is ongoing.  I like to think that I am growing in my understanding of this journey.  I hope you are too...