The holiday season begs for outward signs of joy and jubilation.
Those who surround me await my usual frenzied expressions of holiday cheer, but they find none here.
I am a mother temporarily lost in her own sullen soul. I want to be in the background watching, absorbing the gaiety of Christmas. You see, I can't muster up my own outward expressions of holiday tidings, but I still want to experience this glorious season of celebration and rejoicing, but from a distance.
I am now ever so different. I am unsettled and fighting to find my new norm and the me that will stand the age of my time.
I am aware that I am different than I was before the loss of my daughter, Alexa. Others are also aware I am different.
I have no choice but to accept the constant metamorphosis.
Those around me do have a choice. Some choose to avoid me, others choose to embrace me. I am ever so grateful to each one of them for following their hearts and doing what they need to do. And, I am grateful for my own realization that I am okay where I am at every moment of every day. "Unsettled" I shall be in the constant waves of discovery and healing.
I love these two pictures of my beautiful daughter. As I am in my 2nd year of grieving the loss of her, in my heart and memories I see her as a girl and as a young woman, and I just want to lovingly squeeze her. She'll always be my girl and I miss her so much.
God's blessings and glory to you,
Sharon Younie "a mom like you"
It's THAT time of year again. The time when our family celebrates our oldest son and youngest son's December birthdays, and the blessed birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.
It is also THAT time of year because, like so many others who have suffered the loss of someone they love, we experience emotional ups and downs, as we hope to celebrate while living with loss.
On December 8th, we remembered the day our beautiful son, Kevin, was born and we talked about the essence of who he was, which was handsome, gentle, tender, playful and lovable As a baby and little boy, he loved his Pooh bear that we gave him when he was born, and how I wish we would have kept that stuffed character; a lesson that I have learned - keep the keepsakes for we never know when they will be something of all we have left of that person.
There were many times throughout Kevin's life when he would speak about a "day when we can't be together." From the time he was a young boy, he openly talked about how he wanted to live down the street from his Dad and I (with his brothers just around the corner) and how difficult it would be for him to lose any of his family. It's still unthinkable that he was the one who left us first.
Our oldest son had a dream after Kevin died that he visited Heaven and he saw Kevin standing alone in a crowd of people asking everyone "Where's my family?" Though, that dream surely revealed the broken, concerned heart of a big brother who had protected his little brother all of his life, we all know that Kevin arrived in Heaven excited and full of joy and that he is anything but alone surrounded pure love and he is a citizen of Heaven indeed.
"My beloved son, the day came when we "can't be together anymore," and I want you to know that
I am keeping you in my heart where you will stay "forever!"
Remembering my "Pooh,"
Angie "a mother like you"
These blogpages are written by and for moms who have suffered the loss of a child.