The nights are long. But they are quiet. And I like them. It's hard to find time to process my grief during the day. So many things are pulling on me. But in the prolonged stillness I am at peace and I enjoy it. I can laugh or I can cry. I can be angry or I can be joyful. There is no pressure to be anything other than what is. It is comforting.
Although my body might disagree. The dark circles have become a permanent fixture. I feel like telling people that I meet that I haven't had an accident...I do not have black eyes. But that would lead to an openness that I do not care to venture into.
This was a fun day. William's only try at laser tag (which he didn't like), but the candy necklace was a real treat! And, of course, he ALWAYS loved go-karts!
I often find myself looking through old pictures. It really bothers me that there will never be another. Every new thing that happens here, he is missing from. It's a joy I cannot share with him. And it hurts. It doesn't mean I doubt the Lord or His promises. It only means there was a precious little boy who held a good portion of my heart and he took it with him when he went. I will always miss him. Maybe there will come a day when I won't cry but there will never come a day when I don't miss him.
"There are valuable life lessons that are only learned through the crucible of death and suffering. That is not so much a negative thing as it is a painful reality. At times I will conquer the fears and sorrow that share space in my heart and mind and at other times I will once again find myself overwhelmed by them. That is the curse of humanity – the cost of the fall of man. For as many times as others have suggested or implied that I should move on I wonder if my Savior is whispering, 'Stay. Linger with Me here in this hard place for just awhile longer. Talk to Me. Don’t turn away. There is a gift of great worth awaiting you.'" ~Janet Boxx
Although my body might disagree. The dark circles have become a permanent fixture. I feel like telling people that I meet that I haven't had an accident...I do not have black eyes. But that would lead to an openness that I do not care to venture into.
I often find myself looking through old pictures. It really bothers me that there will never be another. Every new thing that happens here, he is missing from. It's a joy I cannot share with him. And it hurts. It doesn't mean I doubt the Lord or His promises. It only means there was a precious little boy who held a good portion of my heart and he took it with him when he went. I will always miss him. Maybe there will come a day when I won't cry but there will never come a day when I don't miss him.
"There are valuable life lessons that are only learned through the crucible of death and suffering. That is not so much a negative thing as it is a painful reality. At times I will conquer the fears and sorrow that share space in my heart and mind and at other times I will once again find myself overwhelmed by them. That is the curse of humanity – the cost of the fall of man. For as many times as others have suggested or implied that I should move on I wonder if my Savior is whispering, 'Stay. Linger with Me here in this hard place for just awhile longer. Talk to Me. Don’t turn away. There is a gift of great worth awaiting you.'" ~Janet Boxx
https://boxxbanter.com/2017/08/09/how-to-know-when-your-journey-through-grief-is-complete/
