Across my years, grief has never carried me as far as across the past few weeks. It has, occasionally, had runs through my life which brought trembling to me. A child’s death, though, pulls his parents past the common landscape of grief. Losing my son has defied my ken of grief.
Love of my son is the ground from which my grief grows. My loss hurts, but not because I can no longer love him. By loving him, I know grief and by welcoming it I am discovering a deeper connection with my son than I could image before his death.
By refusing to let my love, of him, become stagnant my grief is taken by my love and becoming transformed. As my grief ebbs and flows, I refuse to pull away. Discovering love from unanticipated directions is worth the price.
Love accepts changes. My son brought to me a loss which I accept. Accepting his choosing to end his life enables me to draw him closer. Accepting my pain in grief nourishes the joy emerging from my memories of him.