The police came to our door on a Tuesday morning, bringing devastating news that no parent ever could imagine receiving.
“On behalf of Zane…”
What do you mean ‘on behalf’?
“…. there was a collision, he was killed….”
NO. NO. NO.
That was eight years ago. My heart shattered into sharp, angry shards of glass. I have tried putting it back together since. It is a mosaic at best with large cracks that metaphorically are supposed to let the light in. I think that these cracks let the whole universe in. I know that my heart will never be the same. My cardiologist agrees.
How can my beautiful boy be gone for that long? I continue to wait as if in some magical Hollywood moment, he will return. I search for him everyday in the face of strangers, in the places he enjoyed. When my mind tries to say he is gone, my heart says different. He is still somewhere.
Zane shared with me a quote: “In some other life, we are standing and laughing, that in some other life, we are apart.” This ideal that we are together somewhere, brings me comfort.
No parent ever gets over the unnatural order of their child leaving earth first. Life becomes a search to find the elixir to keep present for our other loved ones, our own lives, and for the legacy of our child. I have found time does not make it easier. It does not soften the fact that there are no more physical hugs. Time becomes the biggest tease, and part of grieving is finding a way to endure this.
Over the last years I have clung to the ideal that our loved ones are not truly gone. I have immersed myself in courses that teach how to connect to the other realm, to recognize angel signs. It has led me to a desire to be more comfortable with the unknown. To understand and share with others, that death is not the end.
The belief that we are energy and that energy cannot be destroyed is the only scientific fact that I hold in my heart. If this can be true, as even Albert Einstein believed, then my son is still here. And albeit different, I can still have a close relationship with him. Forever.
The evidence is in the signs; a saying that comes across my computer when I am thinking of him. The small feathers that float out of nowhere to land in front of my path. The dragonfly that flies next to me on my walk. The scent of his cologne late at night or our song playing on the radio.
These are confirmations, celestial proof our children are still here. Messages from heaven are felt by the soul; the foundation to keeping us connected to our loved ones. For eternity. Death cannot subdue this.
There is consolation in the belief that Zane and I have a connection that will stand the test of time. We experienced this life as mother and son and I believe we will find each other in the next life. In the meantime, I will continue patching my mosaic heart, trusting that love never dies, it holds us tight. We are bound for eternity, morning, noon and night.
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