July 28, 2008
When life begins to change too quickly, when memories sustain you but life calls, imploring you to rediscover passion and joy, the only course of action seems to be to stand perfectly still. To allow the breeze of change to wash over and through you and just breathe.
I have grieved a seemingly endless grief. Most of the time it has been in silence, in the quiet hours of night, on the way to work, on the porch, in a crowd... at the grocery store facing Chef Boy R Dee.
I'm not completely sure how to move back into the flow of a life that doesn't have Shannon in it in the same familiar ways. I've been moving. For ten years I've done what I thought I should. I've talked as if I knew how to live with sorrow. I haven't given up on me or Shannon or life and I've searched to complete exhaustion for the hidden meaning in losing my only child so soon.
I'm hoping we can discover some of those answers together... and even if we only find that we are here to merely hold on to one another... that's okay too.
In the movie "Medicine Man", the last line is, "Life down here is very strange... but so very precious."
It is so very true.