I came to terms that it was time to take the blindfolds from my eyes and deal with the fact that it was just us. It was just us that remained in our household to pick up the pieces and find a way to move forward. Don’t get me wrong, my parents, siblings, and a few family members played a significant role in our support but to put the weight of our world on their shoulders alone felt unfair to me. We were the core of our reality, so it was up to us to strengthen our family and become as strong as we once were.
One day, Markeese and I went for a walk along the lakeside at Veterans Park. We would go there when it was time to clear our heads and talk about everything under the sun. As we strolled down the walkway while trying to avoid the geese’s poop, I turned to him and gave him a look that he would say I would give him when something is wrong.
He put his head down and asked me, “What’s wrong now?” Before I could speak, he said, “I know.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. My heart was heavy, like a brick was in it, weighing it down. A lump formed in my throat, and I whispered back to him, “Okay.”
There’s a way about us that even without words, we know what our hearts feel, and we knew right then and there what we had to do. Was it going to be easy? No. Would we have more bumps in the road? Yes. Are we going to give up? No. We have a love for each other, beyond children, and for that, we were going to work this out. We wanted this, and our children deserved better.
Accepting the Process
I went through my pains and sorrows fighting against the process. I would not allow myself to feel the emotions that were normal to feel after losing a child and everything else that came with it. I would not allow myself to grieve, cry, feel anger, or heal. I thought that staying busy was the way to go. I found myself running to the aid of others to fix their problems while avoiding my own. I worked as much as I could. I started an event planning service to keep my mind off of things. You name it; I did it.
When I began my healing, I understood that I needed to accept the process. It’s going to hurt. I will feel sad, low, and sometimes depressed. The key is to allow yourself to go through it but don’t fall too deep into the depths of the process. You want to feel what and how you need to in those moments but try not to let it pull you in too dark of space. So, you may be wondering why I would suggest that you go into a “dark space” at all. What I have learned is that the process of healing must include your darkness. Otherwise, how would you know how to appreciate and enjoy the lighter days of your life?
Dark times do not mean it’s the end. Those low moments in your life are merely the hope, in which there, you will find purpose. For every trial we go through in life, there is a purpose. Most of us close ourselves from our purpose because, like me, I couldn’t see past what happened. Then, I refused to allow myself to feel after everything happened. To get to my place of peace, I had to accept the process.
Years had come and gone, and we’d experienced some of the hardest things in life. Losing our oldest son, a house, car, jobs, friends, family, marital woes, and my health was not in the best shape. I had to come to terms with life. There are things you can control, and there are things you can’t. It was time to take control and decide if I wanted to live or wither away. I choose to control the things that I could, and live.