My Grief Anthem

My 40 year old son died. He left 5 children, his sisters and me. I tell you this not to gain sympathy or (God forbid) your pity but because it has become a fact of life for me. I will always be the mother of a dead son. For the rest of my life, I will deal with that reality. I can never forget it, deny it or wish it out of existence.

I have made the conscious decision I will not become my grief. I may cry and rage and sometimes be filled with unutterable sadness. I recognize there will always be a hole in my life that was filled by my handsome son.

However, I will not allow those feelings to dominate my life. I will take joy in his children and how much his sons resemble him. I will be grateful for the time I was given with him. I will be proud of the man he became. I will remember the strangers at his funeral (so many) who stopped to tell me how he had somehow helped them. I will treasure my children who are still here and welcome the chance to still nurture them. I will live my life to the fullest in honor of his memory.

I am the mother of a dead son. Consolation is sometimes hard to find. But I refuse to become my grief.

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