Surviving Grief

For the last 2.5 years, grief has often been at the center of my world.   When Jared died, I had a choice.  I could give up and let the grief swallow me or I could fight to survive.  Honestly, I didn't feel like I had a choice.  I had to survive.  I had a little boy who needed his mom.   I had a promise to keep.  I had to ensure Jared's memory lived on.

People would tell me how strong I was.  But I didn't feel strong.  I didnt feel tough.  I was a wreck.  A sobbing mess.  No one knows how many times I cried in the car.   In the shower.  At night after Steven went to bed.  How often I prayed for the strength to survive.  For hope. For courage.

And then one day I realized I was surving Jared's death.  That I was pushing through the grief storm.  That I could feel joy again.  That I was ready to start living again.  That I could open my heart to love again.

In some ways I am a different person than I was the day Jared died.  I am not the same woman who started this grief journey.   But that isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I am stronger.  I refuse to let fear win.  I am more adventurous.  I refuse to let grief swallow me.  I am trying to live life to the fullest.

And because of my grief journey, I am who I am today.  And I hope Jared is looking down with a proud smile on his face.   Because he always had faith that I would survive.  That I would live again. And I'm doing just that.