Hearts Abound

I was recently given the opportunity to write a reflections piece to be included in the spring newsletter for our local chapter of The Compassionate Friends, an organization that supports families after the loss of a child. In the article, I briefly mentioned the phenomenon of hearts appearing in unexpected places. Over the past year or two, I have noticed hearts showing up in so many ways; a knot hole in our wooden fence, a chunk of mud that our dog tracked in, miscellaneous places in nature, and even in some of Micah’s favorite foods. I’m not sure if I’m just more aware of them now or if they really are showing up more frequently. Either way, I like to think that each heart I see is a message of love from Micah, a sign that he is still with me in some way.

Here are some of the hearts I’ve been seeing lately as well as the message I shared for the reflections piece.

From Death to Life

One of the things I most appreciate about living where I do, is the change of seasons. Each one has something unique to offer and brings with it its own beauty. I love seeing the vibrant fall colors as the leaves transition from brilliant green to hues of red, yellow and orange. Although the color change is indicative of impending death, there is so much serenity and beauty that comes along with it. Even in the winter, when the world lies in a dormant state, a fresh blanket of snow can bring a sense of tranquility to a world that is otherwise, for all intents and purposes, in a state of death. It brings light to the darkness and covers the dirt and grime that infiltrates our lives. After a while, though, even the beauty of the snow grows old and I find myself longing for spring and summer; for a time of warmth and new life.

As we’re transitioning from winter to spring, it makes me think of my grief in terms of seasons and the way I choose to cope with the death of my son, Micah. In the “winter” of my grief, there are times when I find comfort sitting alone in my sorrow; allowing the tears to flow as I scroll through pictures of him while listening to his favorite music, reliving memories from when he was young, up through the final days and moments of his life. I find some sense of comfort and healing as I allow myself to feel the emotions that somehow I think I need to hide from the world. At times like this, I feel like I’m simply looking for ways to survive the loss of my son. 

Although I feel some benefit from allowing myself these moments, I can’t stay in that place of grief and sadness for the long term. I don’t know if I would be able to survive my loss without the belief that Micah has been given new life through his death; trusting that there is life after death. Believing that my son’s spirit is just as alive as it ever was and that he is always with me in my heart, brings me comfort. I feel his presence in the beauty of a sunrise, the appearance of a heart in an unexpected place, the grandeur of an eagle soaring overhead or the sound of one of his favorite songs playing on the radio. It’s as if he’s letting me know he’s near as I allow myself to enjoy the daily beauty that is all around me.

Just as I believe that Micah has received eternal life after his physical death, I also know that I need to find new life, a way to thrive and not just survive, in spite of the emptiness I feel from his absence. Although my son’s untimely death has changed me forever, I can’t let it destroy me. After he died, I kept thinking that there had to be some reason for this, some purpose to fulfill, some specific thing I needed to do to somehow make sense of his death. After pondering this for the past two and a half years, I have come to the conclusion that maybe there isn’t one specific thing that I need to do to honor Micah’s life but rather to live a life that will bring a sense of purpose. Maybe the purpose I was looking for is to simply live my life to the fullest; to share the love that I had for Micah with others, to offer my support to those who are hurting and lonely, and to find something to be grateful for in each and every day that I am given. 

As we anticipate the arrival of spring, a time of new life and growth, my wish is that we all may be able to find the beauty that still exists in this world and to be grateful for the gift of new life, both for our loved ones who have gone before us and for us as bereaved parents, grandparents and siblings. May we all experience a new life where we live with purpose, find ways to share our love, show gratitude for what we have and to be a support for others who are grieving the loss of a loved one.