by Shannon Shpak
I dreamed of you last night.
The sunlight streamed down on your face, your arms held wide and your head thrown back in abandon. I could hear your laugh again and I felt the touch of your hands patting my face as they always did.
It felt like coming home.
It has been one year and 4 months in the deepest, darkest throes of grief. And I miss you more than ever.
There are days my body physically hurts from the pain of despair.
My arms literally ache from the empty place you should be.
I have continued to walk forward. You taught me that. The way you faced every day with tireless courage and unsurpassed joy. And because of that… because of you… I am brave. I am strong.
And still I have been scarred. Love has broken me to the innermost core. My life and everything that defined me is gone. You were my hope. You were my tomorrow.
What people fail to tell you about grief is that in it… you lose yourself. I was “Ethan’s mom”. Your caregiver, your fighter, your cheerleader, your voice. And in the end it was none of those things that mattered. Because in one breath… they were gone.
I want to turn back time. Because this journey went wayward. This was not how it was supposed to end. But the book closed… the curtain went down. And time simply ran out. I stopped writing the moment you were gone. Because it went hand in hand. It was your story I was telling after all.
And then… I dreamed of you last night, and I was reminded that you are here, too. In this grief. And in this love. Death has been defeated. Love has won. Love has overcome.
Shannon is a former freelance writer with a BA in English and Journalism. She wrote a blog for 4 years that detailed the journey of the adoption of her son and his subsequent 136 surgeries and 36 months of hospitalization before his final passing in 2014.
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