During the month of April, I am taking on the Blogging from A to Z challenge, writing twenty-six alphabet themed grief notes.
On August 17, 2017 my twenty year old son was killed in a car wreck. I am trying to be OK . . . we are all trying to be OK ... in a world where nothing is OK. I am reaching for what I know heals me ... creativity ... art ... writing. Stringing together words, thoughts, and questions.
I have a love hate relationship with joy.
I want to feel it
but I despise it when it comes
I don't want to ever feel joy again
because it feels like betrayal
but I yearn for my heart to bubble forth with it
Noah whispers, "find the joy, mamasita. find the joy"
so i reach
In the past eight months, I have only had one moment of pure unadulterated joy
when a friend told me that he and his new bride were expecting a bab
and it felt amazing to have that much hope
for the future
In the month after Noah died, I said that I want hope to return.
Now I wish for joy, please
raw, naked, joy
without the cloud
and the covering