Some days I still have trouble believing Michael is gone. It just doesn’t seem possible, but here we are. It feels like the days have unraveled into a haze, each one carrying echoes of his laughter, the warmth of his presence and all the things I loved about him. Mourning him feels like chasing shadows, a bittersweet reminder that love can both wound and heal in its persistence.
My son was not perfect, none of us are. He put on this tough guy exterior but had a heart of gold. He loved his people hard. He taught me many things as his mother and he’s still my teacher even after he is gone. He’s teaching me lessons in presence. Nothing will teach you to savor all the moments like the death of your child. As much as I ache for his presence, I’m learning to find him in the spaces he once filled. The pure, unbreakable love between parent and child remains after they’re gone and they teach us to hold on to what matters.
He’s teaching me resilience. Mike was one of the strongest people I ever knew. Now, it’s my turn. It takes real strength to get up and face each day. It takes strength to experience all the emotions that accompany our grief. I don’t want to be a grieving mother. I don’t want to wake up to sadness every day but that is the path I am on, so I’ll navigate it, with the help of my son and for my son.
My son is also teaching me about empathy. His loss is guiding me in helping to support other parents on this journey. None of us should have to experience this but it is the hand that was dealt to us, so we learn as we go to travel this uncharted path. But we don’t have to make this journey alone and together we will give each other strength.
I’m grateful that my son is teaching me lessons in life though I certainly wish he was here to do it. Yet, amidst the sorrow, I’ve come to realize that grief is not the absence of love but its most profound testament. It is a reminder of how deeply he was cherished and how brightly his spirit illuminated those around him. Each lesson I learn, it’s like I’m carrying him forward. In every quiet moment, in every memory that resurfaces, and in every breath I take, I am honoring the life he lived. His story is stitched into the fabric of my being, and though the threads may fray, they will never break. So, I walk this path, not with the burden of loss, but with the profound privilege of having loved and been loved by someone so extraordinary.
Are there lessons you feel you are learning from your child? I would love to hear them.
Walking with you on this path with love and hugs
Lynn
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