After the end

Taking care of my heart

My grief therapist says that I’m doing great, and I can feel that I’m making progress. But it has been a lot of hard work. I have had to be very introspective and conscious of what I need each day. I am lucky to work for a company and have a boss and colleagues who have given me the ability to take the time to do so. There are days that I need to stay home and cry and sleep in his bed and hug his pillow. There are days that I need to visit the cemetery and talk to him. There are days I just need to go sit by the lake and let the waves and water soothe me. I seek things that bring me joy and peace. I’ve started swimming laps again, and that gives me the opportunity to tune everything out and just move. I have always been artsy, so I took some art classes this summer and was introduced to art therapy, which has been an amazing help. There are so many times I don’t have words to describe how I feel, but it is easier to express with a paint brush. Or times when I feel panicked and full of anxiety, taking the time to draw and become enveloped in the process of creating something almost instantly makes me feel better.

With that in mind, I knew that the upcoming holidays would be torture, and that I might not survive staying in my empty home with his absence screaming incessantly. I am excited to report that I will be spending the holidays in Ireland. I mentioned previously that I discovered the band “The High Kings” while I was in Milwaukee, and that they were from Ireland. I saw them again when they were in Ohio and met some amazing folks who are from Ireland. So when I was thinking of a place to travel to, Ireland just made sense. I have tickets to see them play while I’m there and I can’t wait.

I need to create new Christmas memories so the old ones don’t kill me. I know that changing location won’t erase my memories of him, or make me miss him any less. But, being proactive and giving myself something to look forward to has already eased some of the hovering dread.

When people ask me who I’m going with, I tell them I’m going with Lawrence. He will be with me and he will be proud. I will live large because he can’t. I know he will be proud of me, after all, “live long mommy” was a direct order.

I will also be taking “him” with me literally. I had hundreds of buttons made of his cute face. Whenever I make a connection with someone along my travels and have the opportunity to talk to them about my boy, I’ll give them a button along with this poem:

It is my hope that at least a few of those people will take him to all the places they go, and with the hashtag I’ll be able to check in on him from time to time to see what he’s up to, where he’s going and who he’s with for years to come. It heals my heart to think that in this way he will get to experience the things he didn’t have the opportunity to do in this world.

Let me know if you’d like a button, I am happy to provide a button to anyone who would like to help keep his spirit living for me. Just send me your address and I’ll mail one to you!