Paving my Way

After a long two year period of being very tethered to home, wondering where did my enthusiastic, motivated and I-can-do-anything, self go. I remember. Oh yeah...she was grieving. Two losses in less than two months of each other, both equally soul shattering.

The second one stripped me to my core. The unexpected passing of my eldest son's bestie, of sixteen years, who was in all ways but one, a son to me. Receiving the news that he, at the young age of 37 had left us, is underscored here as shocking. It couldn't be, this must be a sick joke. The date ironically, was April 1st.

There is a long list of pain around this loss—feeling the emotions empathically from my son, those that belonged to me and the incomprehensible loss from his parents. Thinking about what they must be feeling, well, it took my breaths away.

From the moment the call of disbelief came through from my son, through the moment I made the call to his parents, delivering a parent's worst nightmare of news, our block-long house of cards came tumbling down. All of us—forever changed.

The road back from grief has not been as smooth as a newly paved one. With those neatly painted straight lines in bright white and bold yellow, stretching out the distance of boundaries and direction. It has been a bumpy ride, full of potholes, lots of noise under the tired treads and faded of a clear destination.

The corner turned into a new year. The view ahead started to feel much clearer, as acceptance—the final step in the process began to settle in. Not without times of hitting a little rough patch along the way. Kicking up some loose gravel of emotion, only but a temporary loss of traction. "That is life" as they say.

The signs ahead indicate I am paving my way back. Exciting new terrain to explore, with windows washed, radio up and a full tank of gas.

On the bright side of my road.