Time Heals All Wounds?

I thought I'd share another update on how I am currently coping six months after the loss of our son Ethan. Wow, six months. In some ways I cannot believe so much time has passed because part of me still feels as though it all just happened. So has time healed our wounds? Of course not. Time is simply a way of marking where we are in the chronological spectrum of life or if you want to be all philosophical and look at the bigger picture- the spectrum of all existence. Or in this case time acts as continual place marker that we first set beginning with the tragic event and then count forward. And it doesn't heal anything, it simply passes. Every first of the month we place another marker and on we count. The healing is somewhat of a cooperative effort on our part. It doesn't simply happen because a certain amount of days have come and gone. Maybe with some physical wounds that's true, but deep emotional wounds require a lot of participation if we want to see them healed. So how cooperative have I been? Well.....here and there I've done my part.

I don't know if I so much thought I'd be in a different place by now, but I certainly hoped to be. I know I cannot rush the process, but I can hinder it and I feel as though I have to a certain degree. You see, it is an odd place I find myself in. I so desperately want to move forward, to embrace the now and even the future. And to let go a little of what has passed. What is hard about that is I feel all I have left of Ethan that is tangible (besides his ashes) is the pain I feel for the loss of him. And if I lay that pain down, if I leave it behind, I will have forsaken him. Well, that is my fear anyway. I know he will always be a part of me, but the pain keeps him so close and still feeling so present. I don't want to lose that, but I don't want to be weighed down by the pain either. And it has become quite a heavy burden for me.

Initially we freely grieved and cried. As time passed it became harder because we had to continue on in our lives. The tears we had so freely cried became welled up behind a dam of self-preservation. It no longer seemed appropriate to break down in a public place or seemingly without reason. So a little here and a little there I began to squelch the urge to cry thinking well, now is not the time or place. I'll cry later. But then later never came. Or when wanting to share what I was going through at times I thought now is not the time or place. I'll share later. But later never came. The more time passed the harder it became because that was a door I dared not open for fear it would unleash a fury of pent up pain. I even feared that Dan would get healed and move on without me and I'd be all alone in my grief and sorrow. The longer I kept the door closed, the more it simply weighed me down, numbing me to a certain extent and causing me to withdraw emotionally and at times physically avoiding situations. A dark cloud slowly moved in and a lingering sadness enveloped me.

That kind of thing is difficult because while yes it is normal to grieve and be sad and many have assured me it has only been a short time since the loss. But to be consumed is never good, not when it begins to rob you of other joys. I began to feel dead inside; as if nothing made me feel except the pain. I lived from that place because it was all I could feel. I was functioning in life, but not really experiencing it. That has effected my relationships and my overall attitude about life. I don't want to become a negative person - cranky and nit-picky. That's not me. I don't want to walk around expecting bad things to happen to me from here on in. I think it is so important to release things either by talking about it, crying, having conversation with God about it, or writing it down and allowing everyone to read my deepest innermost thoughts :) The point is it HAS to come out if your heart is ever going to be exposed to healing.

So where does all of that leave me? Well awareness is a great first step. I see the place where I've come to and the next step is to make a choice. Do I want to stay here or keep moving forward? That is the step I currently find myself attempting to manage. I am trying hard to keep moving and not remain stuck. The pain may always be a part of me for I will always miss my son and want him here, but life does go on. I want to appreciate and experience to the fullest the other aspects of my life - my wonderful husband, my beautiful Jaden, my family and good friends. I have been so greatly blessed which I have known all along, but I want to breathe that in and feel that in my core once again. So that is where I am - no miraculous healing yet, not all fixed up and mended, but desiring to be and getting there one small step at a time.

Just one more thing. I want to thank my parents for having a memorial tree planted for Ethan in Israel as part of a restoration program over there. You can purchase and dedicate a tree which is what they did in memory of Ethan.