Throughout my life, I have suffered many physical traumas and have visible scars left behind as reminders of the pain. In many of those injuries, the healing was a lengthy process.
Often I wonder if God was toughening up my outside to deal with the tremendous emotional trauma I would face in losing my oldest son, Austin.
As a child, I suffered various and random injuries. Injuries such as having bleach poured on my face from a babysitter, a spider bite on my arm, and having a roman candle backfire on me. All are such unusual injuries that people sometimes think I’m exaggerating when I begin to list them. From all of them I carry scars. Each experience, or storm, in some way made me stronger or braver for having suffered through them. Because of it, I was changed.
I learned confidence from my scars and to not let appearances stop me from living my life; and to see beyond other’s scars to the person behind them. I learned forgiveness; to not let someone else, who wished me harm, have control over my happiness. From the spider bite, I learned bravery, as I remember sitting in the doctor’s office and overhearing him comment how it could get better or I could lose my arm. From the firework injury, I learned how a tragedy can bring a family together and how quickly things can change. In one moment, we were enjoying a backyard holiday memory and the next, I was in the ER.
Later in life, I would suffer multiple injuries to my legs, the worst being from a motorcycle wreck. With this, there are lasting, visible scars, as well as lingering injuries that serve as constant reminders. After being in a hospital bed for over three months and relying on wheelchairs, walkers, and family, I learned many things.
For one, I learned to be thankful for my health. You don’t realize how precious that is, until you risk losing it. I learned to accept help from others and to admit when I was weak, which was a hard lesson for a stubbornly, independent lady. And I learned the power of prayer from how healing it can be.
Confidence, forgiveness, bravery, strength, perseverance, acceptance of help, and the unbreakable bond of love, family and God.
Perhaps each of these “scars and storms” served a purpose for what was to come.
Recently I’ve recovered from a fall that took several weeks to heal. One evening, I realized the entire day had been pain free. I was so used to walking, or rather hobbling, in pain that it just became what was expected. And I remembered that healing in grief is much like this too.
I vividly remember the first time I laughed after losing Austin. Immediately I gasped, appalled with myself that it happened. Laughter seemed so foreign, unwelcome, rude even. For awhile, in the early stages of grief, I tiptoed around any emotion that might lead to happiness because it didn’t feel right.
One summer evening we were dining on our back deck. It was twilight, my favorite time, and we’d had a wonderful day together as a family. Everyone was in a good mood and laughing. I said, “Could this day be any…” and my voice cracked. Because I knew the answer to better was if Austin were here.
A little under two years in our journey, I made the conscious decision to find joy. To choose it. And the healing began. I could feel Austin’s love pulling me this way. To remember him with honor meant enjoying life again. Day by day, moment by moment, it became less of a challenge and more of a mission, or a new way to live.
Just like with physical pain, each day after loss you become stronger. And much like the healing process from an injury, sometimes you will have setbacks. But, one day you’ll make it through and look back, realizing there was less pain than the day before. And before you know it the pain takes up less and less space to make room for more joy.
If you’re deep in the early days of loss, I know this sounds unfathomable. Maybe it even makes you angry – to think that someone could speak of joy and child loss in the same sentence. I was there once, I remember.
Yet I promise you it is there. Within your reach.
And my hope is that in this day, this moment, you can start to feel even a glimpse of it.
Read more about my challenge of finding the joy in every day here.
In 2008, my world as I knew it changed forever, with the sudden loss of our 14-year-old son, Austin. The journey to my blog (and attitude toward life) was bumpy and tearful, beginning at a memorial blog for my son. I later chose to take another path, challenging myself to find the JOY in every day, despite the sadness I still felt. I love and miss him daily but I’m living my life to honor him – and celebrating every moment it brings. My goal…to find and share the joy in every day. You can find me at Joyful Challenge
{Your Thoughts}