It wasn’t that long ago when I would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and think it couldn’t have happened. My son couldn’t have died, it’s not possible, it’s all been a terrible mistake. Please, tell me it’s not real.
But it was real and it did happen.
It took time before his death was truly known to me in the way that all truths are known, without doubt, without question. I knew the sun would come up in the morning, I knew the sun would go down in the evening, and I knew my son had died.
More time had to pass before I began to understand that even so, all was not lost. My son’s life had ended, but his soul, that unseen, at times undervalued, yet ultimately defining element in each of us, survives what our bodies and minds cannot.
It’s where our wisdom, our wealth and our true beauty reside.
The Grieving Path 