Years one through fourteen, anguish.
Year fifteen, formidable.
Year sixteen, restorative.
I found a way to help get me through the first 14 years. Cry, write, share, advocate, educate, be a change maker. Year fifteen silenced me. The fear, anxiety and deep sadness that was awoken was overwhelming. I was reliving the most traumatic event repeatedly. I did all I could do to fight for justice for Zachary. I put on armor and went headfirst into an emotional battle. The more I asked for support, the more difficult it became. There was no other way, though. I’d choose Zachary over myself over and over again. I’m his momma bear and that’s my job. The price though was my mental health. Exhausted and unable to pull myself back up, I retreated. There’s no guide to traumatic grief with the justice system sprinkled on top. What would you have done? Do you choose yourself over your child? Pain is so deeply woven in my body, I don’t know how to extricate it. My rational side tells me that it’s enough and it’s time to restore and rebuild. My heart struggles to give myself the permission to truly do it.
All journeys begin somewhere, or my case begin again. Self-care and balance are where I’m focusing. Reading a book, doing some yoga, writing this blog are some small steps in the right direction. I still can’t fully let myself live and feel irreprehensible joy. The guilt of surviving only allows me to stray so far. It will take work to someday allow myself to thrive. I want to be free of this pain but I have to teach myself how to AND believe that I deserve it. If I’m being honest, I struggle to even write that statement and not delete it. I struggle to accept that I should have happiness when I failed to see what stole Zachary’s life. I still have a long way to go.
The bottom line is I want to find my voice and start to march forth again. I want to write, share, and continue Zachary’s legacy by being truthful about my grief story.
What is a legacy? It’s like planting seeds in a garden you’ll never see grow- Hamilton
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Happy 17th Birthday Meatball
I let Zachary’s birthday pass quietly this year. We stuck to our balloon tradition. I wasn’t emotionally ready to share this day outside of my very small bubble. March 4th, 2021- my Meatball “turned” 17. For the last 5 years, a group of my former students come visit me. They are the same age as my little man. They always let me know that they are thinking of us. They make me beautiful cards, give donations in his memory and bake treats for his birthday. This year when I saw my girls we talked about school, relationships, college and jobs. When we said goodbye I watched them all get in their own cars and drive away. No matter what I do, I can only see my little man as a 14-month old. It is hard to come to terms with the fact that he’d be 17 and would have grown just as the girls have. No matter what, I am so grateful to them. A lot of people struggle with what to say to the bereaved. These girls don’t and it feels really good. I am so proud of them. I love hearing about their lives and knowing that Zachary continues to be remembered.
