Last night I spoke to a young mom as her three year old son played with my almost four year old grandson on the slide at the park. Konner asked if his father could ride the two-person side-by-side ATV that was parked in the lot to the north of us. I replied, “No, but he would have liked to have owned one. You two would have had a lot of fun together on it.”
The young mom’s facial expression shifted to curiosity without the need to verbally ask for an explanation. I shared with her that my son, his father, died on April 10th and since then I am blessed to spend every Tuesday evening with my son’s son.
She couldn’t believe I was joy-filled and not sobbing as I spoke of my son. Smiling, I replied, “I have my tearful moments, but I am celebrating my son’s life, not dwelling on his death. It’s what he’d want. I’m choosing to be joy-filled when I’m with Konner versus reminding him of his loss. He deserves to be a happy boy.”
“You are a stronger woman than I,” she stated as tears welled in her eyes.
Often times people make me feel guilty because I’m not sobbing 24/7. We all grieve differently, and I am free to feel as I do in the moment that I feel it. I am choosing to celebrate my son, not dwell on what was or what could have been. I am simply allowing myself to see the blessings as I learn from life’s adjustment.