As I sit here in my office and ponder the significance of this day, I am struggling to put into words what I'm feeling this year. It's been 17 years since Cole left us and this year has likely been the hardest since that one.
The other day I was talking about significant days and how our bodies respond to them. For many years I struggled with the days leading up to this day and with this day itself....but mostly with the lead up. I shared with someone that I think the anticipation of the anniversary of the day your heart was shattered is actually worse than the day itself.
But this year hasn't been like that for me. I've had so much going on, so many other deeply emotional days and times of absolute emotional exhaustion that I think I didn't have room to anticipate this day or worry about it's significance.
And so I spent some time this morning doing what I always do on this day, reading something I've written and reflecting on it. It's easier to do now that I only seem to blog once a year but, truth be told, the only post I read before I sat down to write was this one that I wrote a number of years ago when I spent the advent season sharing my testimony, which meant sharing the journey that lead me to truly accept Jesus and learn to rely on him to get me out of the dark pit of grief I was in. It's full of the raw details of that day 17 years ago and you can read it here if you want. Later today I will read more of my previous reflections because it's so important to me to remember, to reflect, to see how far I've come. But for now this piece was enough for my heart this morning.
And it definitely had the desired affect of sending my mind and heart on a journey of remembering. It's almost brutal how your mind never forgets the tiniest details of memories that are so connected to deep emotions. Everything in that piece writing could have been happening to me right now for how my body was responding. I've learned a lot in the last year about trauma responses and that, my friends, is a true example of how trauma affects your body for years and years.
Yet as I finished reading it my body quickly calmed and my heartache was replaced with gratitude. And now as I prepare to write the next part I'm quickly being overcome with emotions. You see this past year I learned to be so very grateful that I had a child in heaven as it was the one thing that someone very close to me reflected on as they contemplated leaving this world by choice because it seemed too hard to stay. I've been grateful for many things in the journey of Cameron and Cole; the personal growth I've experienced, the growth of my faith, the friends I've made, the support I've been able to offer others...so many things that couldn't have happened without knowing the heartache of losing Cole. But I've never been as grateful as I am this year that my child is in heaven, that he went before us and is watching over us...and giving someone as a reason to stay because they know how hard it's been to take this journey and how hard it has been for me at times and they don't want to put me through that again,
And so this year, Cole, sweet son of mine, I am so grateful for you. I am grateful for all you've given me over the years, all that our journey has done for my heart and my soul. I have so much gratitude to you sweet boy for watching over us, most especially your brothers. You are the light in the darkness for me and I know that heaven is blessed to have you. I also know that we're so very blessed to have our own piece of heaven living in our hearts. Please continue to guide us. Help us to honour you and live life for you, walk steps for you, change lives for you. You may not have gotten the chance to do these things yourself but you've done them through each of us.
I love you Cole, from the bottom of my heart and from the depths of my being. I am who I am because of you and I am so grateful for you, my child.
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