Loss happens and grief ensues. That is just the process of life. What we never expect is to lose a child. After all, parents are supposed to die first; aren’t they? Some of us learn the hard way, that isn’t always how it happens.
Just over four years ago, I moved into my forever home and
soon after met this lovely lady that lived right behind me. We chatted from her
deck to my yard. She watched as I transformed a sea of weeds and overgrown
plants into my garden oasis. We had a friendly and unsaid battle of solar
lights! Eventually, we even had her grandson put steps from my garden to her space,
so we could easily visit one another. She admired my Memorial Garden and was
compassionate about the loss of BJ. What Shayla didn’t know then, is that she
would endure the unimaginable and become part of this group that no parent
wants to.
Shayla lost her son, one month ago today, in a motorcycle
accident, and now her journey really begins. Today is the “first” of many
firsts…first month without Ryan. She will count every single “month” until it
is the First Year since he’s been gone. The first year is the most brutal. First
this, first that, and it all just sucks and fills our eyes with tears…with every
damn first. I never met Ryan, just like she never met BJ, but we know one
another and understand the pain the other is going through. Today I am not only
Remembering BJ, but I am also remembering Ryan. I will remember that because
you are gone, my friend needs me. I will remember that because you are gone,
others are grieving and trying to find their new normal. I will remember that
because you are gone, I have learned to mentor someone through her first few
weeks of grief.
My sweet Shayla, I cannot say this gets easier because in
all honesty, it doesn’t. We do learn to live the new version of our life, where
we hold our son in our heart and not in our arms. You will notice things that
never caught your attention before. For me it is seeing “BJ” on a license plate
or sign. Just seeing that melts my heart. I see BJ in both of his brothers, his
daughter, and his nephew. His spirit lives on in many ways, and Ryan’s will
too. Take the time to notice the small things, give grace to others that are
grieving, and allowing yourself to cry when you need to, laugh at something he
once said or did, and above all else…take care of you. You will be headed home
soon and there will be days of silence. Cry when you want, reflect when you
can, but take care of you.
Although we remember the ones we lose, don’t forget to love
the ones we have.
