So many intense emotions today. So many that are all over the place…

Being human is a difficult thing and being a parent, I believe, even more so.

I think it is natural for us to hold ourselves to a high bar.

For us to want better for our children.

A better childhood, a better life. More abundance and more peace.

It is a trap we set ourselves up in. One that breeds fear, feelings of failure and general discontent.

I am no different.

I spent much of the last 25 years in this trap.

Wanting more. Being more.

Striving. Achieving.

And often, falling short.

I think one of the most challenging things as a mother who has lost her child is accepting that the time is up.

No more chances. No more birthdays. No more Christmases.

No more healing conversations or trips.

No more opportunities to live our best lives together.

For me, the chances for that died the day Josiah left this earth.

So, what do I do now?

Here I am living this life. Still trying to live my best life. Feeling resolute peace amidst my most intense grief.

Smiling and on many levels, enjoying life.

Mixed into all of that is this incredible sadness, peppered with regret and a deep longing for Josiah to be here.

To see how much I’ve grown.

To see how well I’m doing under this most horrific stress.

To ask him if he’s proud of me and to ask once again for forgiveness.

To ultimately forgive me for being human, for being so young when he was born, for making the biggest of mistakes with the best of intentions and to ask him to help me unload this unbearable weight.

The truth is, there is part of me that is scared to be happy, scared of what that means about me — and of what people will think.

Funny thing is, if I could ask Josiah, he would say, “F*ck what people think.”

Josiah always grabbed life and lived it and to be fair, he probably learned that from me.

I often feel him here supporting me, encouraging me, ushering me forward into what has become my next life.

Showing me that there is indeed life after death, that I don’t have to die with him, that I can find forgiveness and peace in his absence, that it is okay to truly live.

And in that, I can live my amends.

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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.