I tiptoe into the month of February, hoping to skirt around That Day. Avoid it, if possible. Sneak by as if it isn’t there. The biggest milestone of all looms in front of me, directly in my path. Surely you know the day I mean. That Day. February 9th, the day she stepped from this life into heaven. The day our lives turned upside down and grief, such as we had never known before, stepped in.
Bravely we’ve faced all the milestones of this past year. Positive, hope-filled, and optimistically, we’ve marched forward with our lives, learning to adapt, adjust, and accept what is. But, as I stand in the shadow of this milestone, I don’t feel brave at all. Instead, I want to build a wall between me and that milestone, so I don’t have to acknowledge it. Pretend That Day has no effect on me. Pretend it’s just another day on the calendar.
Except, I can’t pretend. In the shadow of the first year milestone, I weep. Weeping till there are no more tears to weep. Grieving deeper than I’ve grieved since the very first days one year ago. Spilling from my heart in a tidal wave of brokenness, the torrent of emotions I’ve been holding at bay bursts through the floodgates.
Instead of fleeing from my grief, this time I embrace it. Purging, purifying, deeply cleansing tears disinfect my wounded soul. And, in the aftermath of the flood, peace is restored. Strength renewed. Hope returns. Clouds part and the sun shines once more. I rise and see past the milestone of That Day. Once again I see that life, indeed, goes on.
Sara Faith Nelson
Sharing the journey, because, I find there are so many others making the trek through life without a loved one