This drawing depicts the broken hearted. Although life continues to blossom and flourish, the wounds that death brings to the soul may be overshadowed. It is when the wounded transform from the sadness to remembrance that they can see the beauty that surrounds them. This transformation does not have a timetable. It may be months or years, or in some cases, never. However, once the transformation occurs, a sense of peace and tranquility can soothe even the deepest wounds. Though the wounds may be tended to in a newfound perspective, the scar will forever remain.
When my son, Jason died, I was in so much shock and disbelief. How is it possible that he is gone? How is it possible that I watched him take his last breath, that I heard him utter his last words? Did this really happen? Was it just a nightmare? The shock wears off and the reality sets in. Yes, he did die. Yes, his body is gone. Yes, I am a bereaved mother. This is my new life. This is who I am now.
I realize that I have several choices following Jason’s death. I could harden my heart to those around me and could sink into a place so dark that the light around me makes no difference. I could let my grief stop me from fulfilling what I am capable of achieving. I have a choice.
My son is too important to me to stop living. I need to live my life in a positive, productive way. I need to let him live through me. I am making the choice to be a happy person, despite the incredible sadness that will always have a home in my heart. Don’t get me wrong, there are days where the world seems like an unfair, hateful place, there are days where my Garden of Sorrow has no light. It is at these times that I am trying to make the conscious effort to life up my heart, take in the air around me, and smile at the beauty in my Garden. Life and death are close companions and in my Garden of Sorrows, I can embrace both.