Six years. Maybe I don't remember six days but I do know I didn't like the idea of moving away from the day he died because it meant being further from the day he lived. Six years.
The body dies, consciousness lived before the body and forever. Life after life. If I had understood death better I might have accepted death of a son softer, but I doubt I would have learned as much. Everything is just as it is. Grateful that I explored whether driven by grief, fear, resentment, or any other emotion. The beauty is that I was able to feel all emotions, not just the socially acceptable ones, but also the ones that hurt. They are all gifts of God.
Many cliches were put to rest for ever these past six years. Time took a beating. This I know to be true: Time heals nothing. Peace, acquired through searching, feeling emotions, and sharing, heals wounds. Time is a thief, and it gets way too much credit for nothing.
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