When my son died this past September, I was besides myself. I felt and feel sometimes like my worst nightmare has actually happened. The questions that usually follow in my mind, are, What now? What’s next? How will I ever recover from this and move on in my life? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?
Other questions that surface are in the realm of: What is this life all about? If there is a God I don’t feel like speaking with him/her/it right now and maybe never. Did my son experience pain and suffering? How can I live with those types of thoughts? Where is my son now? Where is his spirit now?
Life is a journey. Working with what life gives you creates a path. Resisting what life gives you feels like depression and anxiety. It takes an enormous amount of energy to resist life. To somehow try to control it. I am not suggesting that working with what life gives you is easy or that it creates a smooth path. It doesn’t. But opening to possibility feels better than pain and suffering.
Months after my son died, I realized that right next to the crack in my heart where the pain resides is enormous love that I have for him. When things get tough, I ask myself what am I focused on…the pain or the love?