Today marks 12 years since you passed away Emersyn. I contemplated whether I should write on your blog that I have written on for the past 12 years. I talked to your Dad about not writing today and asked - why am I still writing 12 years later? As always he brought things into perspective for me when he said that I should only be writing here if it helps me and possibly even one other person reading this. As he said this I remembered what you have taught me which is the only way through is through.The pathway to healing is in the journey and oftentimes it may feel like we can’t do it but when we continue to try we grow. I really do find great comfort in knowing that you have helped others. So here I am 12 years later writing to you because it honours your legacy while also helping me and hopefully others to find meaning and comfort on this journey.
What a year this has been reinventing ourselves during our global pandemic. Digging deep we have all found resiliency, sorrow and gratitude all whirled into one as we navigate this ever evolving time in history. It has been a long road and although we are almost nearing the end of the pandemic we are not there yet. On the hardest days when we miss the normalcy of visiting carefree with our loved ones I think of you and remind myself there will be nothing harder than losing you and we will all make it through this. However, making it through does not come without a greater need and awareness for true self care and compassion towards others and ourselves. I have learned that I cannot passively make it through a journey. I have learned if I do not play an active role in navigating and acknowledging where I am it is more challenging. This does not negate the struggle but it does make it lighter. As a bereaved parent I have learned that stepping aside and making space for grief has allowed me to take some time to be mindful, breathe and reflect on how far we have come and remember you. When I hold space for grief I find you there.
Losing a child and experiencing a global pandemic are very different. I do however, find myself turning to some similar coping strategies and also notice the persistence of hope appearing again and again. Gratitude and mindfulness have been two touch stones that you have given us that I continue to turn to. The power of a few deep breaths is so simple yet grounding and powerful.
You nudge us to remember that sometimes instead of doing more we can just “be”. Just be there for a moment and take some deep breaths. Gratitude and hope tend to surface in these moments. I have also noticed that hope is stubborn and will find a way to ignite itself even as a small flicker it lights the journey. I know now that grief is the other side of love and as time has passed my grief for you has become as important and treasured as my love for you. 12 years later I miss you as much as I did the day you passed away and with time even more so.
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot. All of the unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go” ~ Jamie Anderson. I have all of this love and grief and I continue to find ways ways to share it. As a family we have taken the most sour lemons as they say and tried to create lemonade that by nature will always be bittersweet yet filled with love. So to answer my question “why am I still writing 12 years later” it is because it helps me to feel connected to you and hopefully helps someone else who may need some comfort along the way. Our lemonade isn’t perfect but it’s perfectly ours and if it helps even one person then it’s worth sharing.
We miss you to the moon and back Emersyn and we feel your absence and your presence daily. You are the hope that continues to ignite within us.
Love,
Mom, Dad, Isla and Callum xoxo
