Reflections of My Life

It is hard, in the beginning, to think back to better times. Hard to pull those memories of your lost loved one to the surface. It hurts just as deeply as the loss itself. They were better times, happier times. You wonder if happy will ever enter your vocabulary again. They are the reflections of your life.

Each person that comes and remains in your life sees a different you than the next person. The ones that know you as 'mom', 'wife', 'friend', 'family'. Each one sees a facet of you that is unique to them. They reflect back to you who they think you are. What they love about you. It is like the many shards of a broken mirror. Each shard reflects back something different. The reflections of your life.

When we lose someone we love, who loved us, that reflection goes with them. We become adrift, not sure who we are anymore. We feel the emptiness of our selves as we probe the space left by them. We are cast into a dark, bottomless well with no rope, no ladder, no map to show us the way back to the sunlight. We try to fit the shards of glass back together, but pieces are missing and will never be replaced. Those pieces belong with them now for it was their vision of us. So not only do we lose them, we lose ourselves. The reflections of our life.

I am still a mom, a daughter, a wife, a friend, but I am different now. I still love as fiercely as I did before Tim died. I still need those who love me, who I love. But much has changed. I no longer have the tolerance I once had when someone says something stupid. I cannot abide ones who think of only themselves first and maybe others later. I have always hated cruelty whether it is against man or animal. Where once, I would have over looked their rudeness, disrespect and  sarcastic attitudes, not anymore. I will never be that person again. If they are hateful, they have no place in my life for that is their own reflections of who they are.

When Tim choose to leave, I became nothing for awhile. The love of a child lost is a lost love. It is hard to find yourself again for part of you is gone. It is gone and will never return. Yet I find, that Tim's love for me, his reflections of me are still within, in the memories. Even though he is gone, I am still his mom. I can still see the trust he had of me in the eyes of a memory. It may not seem like much, but that is what is left and I cherish it.

These are the reflections of my life. I have a daughter, grandsons, a husband and friends who love me despite the changes that have occurred. They still hold their own images of me that will grow and change as I change. Life is about changes, even harsh, uncontrolled sudden ones such as this. They have held on to me and have been tolerant as I find my way through the barren landscape. They trust that I will come back to them in my own time. Changed, yet still me. They have not been critical, their patience has not worn thin. There is one shard missing, but all of theirs are still there, waiting.

As time passes, the pain becomes slightly less. It will not ever be completely gone, but manageable. I will forever hurt but it will become like most things you carry with you all your life, under the surface, always there but livable. The sharps edges dull. I will miss him and what might of been. But I understand that the might of beens may never of happened anyway and his suffering could have been worse. Hard to believe that there could be worse, but there are. I tell myself that he is safe now, happy, protected and I learn to accept this and learn who I am.

I know that there will be other reflections of my life as people come and go. None will fill this empty space for it belongs only to my son, so maybe that space is not so empty after all. They will have their own space. I find myself in the ones who love me. He loves me too. There will be parts of me that I don't like, but who does totally like themselves? Okay, there are some who do, but usually they love only themselves. I am the sum total of many things, good and bad. I accept all reflections of who I am through the eyes of others and the breath of myself. Walk toward the morning sun as it echos of ages past and times to come. Hope exists, joy is there. We will fall and climb back up. Don't give up.