Today marks ten years since we gathered with friends and family to say our final good-bye to Dominic.
It had been nine long days since the deputy woke me up on April 12th. Days when I was both unbelieving and overwhelmed by the fact my son would never cross the threshold again.
I woke up that morning numb.
I’d cried every day but for some reason when faced with this final act I couldn’t muster tears.
We received folks for a couple of hours before the service began and during that time I reached behind my back and placed my fingers in Dominic’s cold right hand clinging to the few moments I had left with his earthly shell.
So, so many people I didn’t expect to come, came. So, so many hugs and whispered words and sad smiles marched past as we were forced to participate in a parent’s worst nightmare.
When the funeral director indicated it was “time” I didn’t want to let go. I turned, kissed his cheek and drank in the last glimpse of his face in this life.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Ten years have come and gone.
The first few were excruciating-I experienced every moment of every day through my pain. I spent hours upon hours thinking about and processing what had happened and what I’d lost.
Gradually, over time, and by doing the work grief requires, I have become stronger and life has grown around my loss. I’ve learned that joy and sadness can coexist. Color has returned to my grayscale world. Most of the shattered pieces of me have reassembled themselves into a kind of whole. My family has survived.
I’m so thankful for every person who helped that day when we laid Dominic to rest. I’m so thankful for every person who has helped since. I’m especially thankful to my family for not giving up on me or on one another.
But I’m still astonished that nearly a decade has passed and Dominic is not part of a single memory or photograph.
Grief anniversaries stop me in my tracks and require my full attention.
Today is sacred. It’s a line in the sand marking “before” and “after”.
It deserves to be remembered.
Dominic deserves to be remembered.
So today I will remember. ❤
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thelifeididntchoose 
10 years…. I am so blubbering sorry for your being thrust into the life you didn’t choose. I only know that I could not have walked this path without your gentle guidance, and words of comfort and hope. As only one who truly understands can know. How you have done this, so honestly, so resolutely, so vulnerably…..is such a blessing to those of us alongside you. God be with you sweet friend, especially this day.
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Melanie
Hello
And thank you so much for the words you share about your grief journey.
I struggle so much.
It will be 7 years in May since my son Beau passed away at age 22.
It was a Mother’s Day that we found him unresponsive in his bed.
I still struggle with the why
On the most precious day for a Mother. Which I longed to be even at a young age.
He would live 2 days on life support and we had to make the treacherous decision that I still hurt about to this day.
So sorry I’ve shared so much
But I’m getting at grief work.
I’m not sure I’ve really done any grief work.
I did see a social worker at hospice.
I’ve tried other therapist.
But no good fit.
I care for my parents.
They live with us.
Dad passed a year ago.
My Mother is 93 and needs 24/7 care.
Their needs were still required before Beau passed, just not as much as needed now.
I have been diagnosed with PTSD.
I would appreciate your insight and suggestions of what I could work on to help myself in my grief journey.
I appreciate your time and kindness.
Sincerely
Beau’s Mom
JoVanna
Sent from my iPhone
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The anniversary of my son’s death is the hardest day of the year for me. When a few faithful friends and family call me or text me to let me know they remember my sweet son it means the world to me.
Thinking of your precious son today with love. Joan Beck
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