Healing has been a process of surrendering, remembering, and waiting. It has been allowing the emotions and the memories to surface. It has been going through the pain and not stuffing it away. It has been allowing the gaping wounds to be exposed to the light. It has been counseling, and writing, and graveside visits. It has been nights of endless tears and crying to the point of vomiting and being unable to breathe. It has been going through your memory box and looking at your pictures. Meeting others in their suffering and talking about real and hard things. It has been allowing others to love me and admitting that I can’t do it all. It has been an attempt to trust, and getting let down—but trying again anyway. It has been acknowledging my pain, giving it a name, and being okay with who I am now. It has been accepting what life after loss looks like, moving one step forward, one day at a time. And it has also been taking steps backward. It has been losing relationships, losing friends, and letting go of the expectations I place on myself and others.
Healing has been allowing the old wound to touch this new wound. It has been waiting in joyful hope.
And healing will come because you existed.
Healing will come, because of you.
My healing baby.