Originally written November 23, 2021
Early morning pitch black conversation:
“I miss him so much.”
“I know baby. I can only imagine.”
I miss the noise his presence brought to my life.
The chaos of his unconventional living.
The “Mom’s?” that seemed to crescendo at the end with an inflection that proved he still needed me.
The endless searches for shoes that would protect the soles of his extra wide feet.
The new cell phones.
The parts of our lives that seemed stuck on repeat.
I miss it all.
It’s just too quiet now.
Sometimes silence is overrated.
When Grief Speaks is a selection of writings that originated as journal entries and Facebook posts when I was in early grief after my son, Josiah, was killed. They speak straight from the heart, from the depths of despair that many bereaved find themselves in. I offer them here to not only openly share myself with you, but also to connect with those who may feel as I once did. As grief unfolds and matures, it changes. We grow grief muscles that we never wanted. At some point, we find that we can carry what we once thought would crush us and in that, we find hope.
Remember the Birds 