You're Lucky You Don't Have a Son

I love family celebrations and fortunately there have been many, of late. Three birthday parties (including a milestone one for my 90-year-old father-in-law), as well as meals shared over Easter weekend. And coming up, a get-together for Mother's Day. After any family event, I always experience the inevitable emotional letdown of missing my son more acutely, but thankfully, the intensity of this feeling usually dissipates by morning.

Today, however, there are still lingering effects from a celebration that took place over a week ago, due to a comment an extended family member directed at my husband that evening. The words continue to reverberate in my mind, triggering this ache in my heart: "You're lucky you don't have a son." This, from someone who had known Michael. Obviously, it was an off-the-cuff comment; this person certainly did not intend to cause any pain. Still, it is difficult to understand how he could forget that we had had a son. Maybe it occurred to him later, maybe not. Upon reflection, there is the off chance that he hadn't forgotten, but neglected to consider the consequences his words might have. The impact this comment had on my husband and me was twofold: one, the shock upon hearing the words themselves, then the resulting pain, and two, recognizing the stark contrast between these two realities. My husband and I live with this profound loss every single day and yet, for this person, it appears that our son has slipped completely off the radar. And so, it goes. The learning continues.

Pink and Gold Bruised Heart

Coming up on twelve months.  Searching for the word to best describe this mother's heart.  Some in this situation referring to theirs as being scarred.  Implying lack of hope for further healing.  Personally not to viewing it that way.  Neither wounded nor damaged accurately expressing it either.  Earlier this week, settling on bruised.  A piece of my heart now feeling deeply and severely bruised.  Along with the expected corresponding ache and vulnerability.  Likely both lifelong companions.  Fully accepting that.  The greater part of my heart still thoroughly capable of giving and receiving love.  Then a couple of days ago, experiencing an added dimension.  During yoga, in Savasana, with mind's eye fully opened.  Perceiving an abundance of soft pink energy infusing my heart.  Interspersed with swirling strands of gold. Filling the space beyond capacity.  Flowing in and out in every direction.  Once again, witnessing the spiritual body supporting the emotional and physical ones.  With the powerful energies of light and love.