Along the way on this journey, I have learned some simple truths. I learned that I must accept that I was on a journey. As with all journeys in life, I had to accept that I would not know what lay ahead of me as I made my way down the path of recovery after a terrible loss. I did not know the hills I would face, nor would I know how difficult the valleys could be. Thankfully, long ago in my life, I had come to believe that life is best lived one day at a time. I did not know that on this grief journey that I suddenly found myself on, I would at times only be able to live moment to moment.
How does one press on with such a journey the newly bereaved may ask? I only can answer this question by thinking about my own journey and noting those things that have most helped me press on.
The Need to Memorialize a Life
At the time of Julie's death, I could not foresee that in just a few short years we would decide to sell this home and move. I could not foresee that my health would suffer, and I would be limited on my ability to plant the garden I wished to plant. I could not foresee that draught would hit our area this year and that we would have over a week straight of days over 100 degrees. Twice, during that week, temperatures would reach 113 in our backyard. These conditions are not conducive to growing the garden I envisioned.
|Jon and Sam read the directions|
|This part is engraved with|
"Into the freedom of the wind and the sun we let you go."
In memory of
Julie Ann Christiansen
|Atticus with new sculpture|
|Jon and Atticus|
|Jon and Sally|
|Jon on the patio he built|
This also could be a metaphor for the grief journey. At times, the journey is dry and does not produce much beauty. During these times, one must hang on to hope. I have no doubt that those flowers that bloomed in beauty last year, will do so again with the right conditions.
|Mom & Son time|
|Atticus rewards Boston for bringing him the ball|
|Playing soccer together|