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If my aura was a color, what would it be?  A shade of magenta or fuchsia with a dash of brick red stirred in, like an early summer sunburn so severe that it glows purplish pink?  Or inky, sable black with a bluish tinge washed over the top, akin to a glistening slick floating atop a parking lot puddle?  Perhaps it is both, each shining independently of the other, changing moment by moment, silently shifting to match the madness inside my mind…apparent only to those really seeing me when it occurs…


It takes every ounce of courage I possess to get up and go through the motions of being all that I am expected to be.  Although I am altered, my responsibilities remain the same; obligations must be met, regardless of my indifference.  This world still spins as it always has, and the pages of the calendar flip without fail; life all around me buzzes, humming with activity and purpose, despite my pain and struggle to belong or contribute as before…  It is extremely hard being one of those left behind…


Everyone has heard tales of suffering and sorrow where a person simply grieves themselves away; I wondered how this could be, why someone would just give up on life.  I couldn’t possibly have grasped this before…it was unfathomable to me…  But now it is crystal clear…an undesired awareness has been born…  I truly understand what it means to die of a broken heart.  I know how easily it could happen.  Giving up, giving in, not caring anymore, call it what you want.  It is a siren song, murmuring your name, promising sweet relief from that which you cannot reconcile…  It is the dark shadowy place that offers comfort by virtue of its nothingness and lack of expectation, emerging when you are utterly alone except for your misery...  It is the smothering, suffocating awareness of your new life and your inability to change anything about it...  It is the long list of regrets and words unspoken, things contemplated that you will never complete or be able to forget...  It is the bitter battle fought at the horizon where your future dreams and harsh reality collide, a civil war between your head and your heart… It is the loneliness created in the wake of a loss so incomprehensible, so impossible, that it eclipses your very will to live on in this altered state…  It is an outright rejection of the life that has been given to you, for it most certainly is not one you would have chosen for yourself…ultimately it is an unwillingness to submit your will to that of His…


I believe that our survival essentially comes down to acceptance versus denial.  We face each day and whatever comes with it, one breath at a time, for that is as much as we can handle.  As we confront, endure and conquer these agonizing ‘firsts’, I pray that each will help us to gradually move toward acceptance of His larger plan for our lives.  Because I know there is one…


‘Beloved Son, how we miss you so;

We are trying hard to let you go.

Every day, we attempt to face,

This world without you in your place.

Our comfort is that you're not alone,

As God saw fit to call you home.’  

Plans are underway for the informal support group; there is also an online group under ‘Moms Groups’.  Anyone who has experienced loss is welcome to join.  Wishing you hope… TG

Tammy will update her blog on Mondays and Thursdays.  -- Jen, site administrator