"An angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth. And whispered as she closed the book, 'Too beautiful for Earth.'" - Unknown
Where have I been?
It's been a while since my last blog post, and I want to take a moment to explain my absence. Life has a way of presenting us with unexpected challenges, and I experienced the unimaginable loss of my precious child, my beloved son Joshua. The grief and sorrow I have been grappling with have made it difficult for me to find the words to share with you. But today, I want to open up about my journey of healing, refocusing on living, and moving forward.
Inside I feel there are many pieces to write, parts of myself that cries out to be heard, and my day to day life to share with you. And I struggle to do it. To sit with intention, allow myself to write freely and let the words simply flow from my fingertips.
It's one year and five months today... since his heart stopped beating and his body failed him. The word "fail" hardly captures the magnitude of his tragedy. His body valiantly fought to stay alive, and had you seen the mangled car he was driving after the accident, from which the first responders extricated him, you would believe, even in the last 32 hours of his life, that he was undoubtedly a miracle.
It has been one year and five months since he took his final breath. Having made one year almost feels final... but it isn't. Although I have completed it, I have also embarked upon a new season, a fresh chapter in my life, and continue along this path of grief and healing.
I don't even know how I managed to get through this first year. Much of it is like a blur, and on the days when I could focus, I had to fight my way through, taking one more step, making it through one more minute, and facing one more day.
The first year I was plagued with sleepless nights... each morning and night felt unbearably difficult. They served as constant reminders of my new reality, a life without Josh. Who in this world wants to wake up to that painful reality? And who, in this lifetime, would want to close their eyes, knowing the agony they would have to relive again? Tormented to the core of my being, I cannot deny that thoughts of death consumed me. I battled fiercely against these suicidal thoughts, knowing that I have other children, a loving husband, and many others in my life who still need me. Even Josh... he left behind a gift of all those he loved and cared for, who have now become a part of my life as well. But there were countless moments when none of this felt like enough. The pain ran so deep, so raw... I simply wished for it all to disappear, for this painful reality to cease to exist. How did I survive this? One word...Jesus.
Without my faith in Christ, I would be dead. I would be lost. I would have gone mad. Utterly consumed by despair. From the moment the officers knocked on my door and escorted me to the hospital, throughout the agonizing hours, days, weeks, and months that followed, Jesus was an ever-present force. He became my anchor, my comfort, and unwavering strength beyond my own capabilities. An indescribable peace that is unmatched with this world's definition of peace. I learned in my tragedy, as I walk in my grief... I have come to realize that I can endure the loss of everything in this life, absolutely everything, and still find the drive to carry on. Yet, there is one thing I know I cannot survive without, and that is Jesus. He has become my all-encompassing presence, the very purpose that fuels my existence. In my brokenness, in the rawness of who I am, I find solace in knowing that He understands, He observes, and He walks beside me through it all.
Even to this day, some of my days remain unmanageable, disordered and messy. Waves crash over me, leaving me barely able to stand, and enveloping me in a profound numbness. Why am I opening up about this? Why am I choosing to share these intimate struggles? I recognize that expressing my experiences through writing is a form of healing, and my hope is to connect with others who know grief, who can relate with me on any level from sharing my journey, as I travel along this path.
This world teems with billions of souls. Currently, it is estimated that there are 8 billion people inhabiting this planet. 8 billion! Despite this vast number, I have experienced firsthand what it means to feel utterly alone, as if no one comprehends or can empathize with the immense anguish, sorrow, and torment that consumes you.
A year plus later, I can't tell you that the pain is gone, the sorrow has lessened and the grief has turned into joy. Because I'd be lying. The pain remains but it isn't as intense and comes in days sometimes lasting several hours... the sorrow too doesn't feel as long when it's there though the ache can feel as it did in the early months at times. And most certainly my grief hasn't turned into joy but I do feel joy again and I do experience multiple emotions at one time such as happiness and sadness, peace and despair, anger and love.
If you have encountered grief, you understand its rawness, unpredictable and its capricious nature. Throughout any given day, I have been confronted with surreal moments. Is this really happening? Is he really not coming home and walking through those doors? Where is he? Why isn't he here? Why is he gone? Can this be true? We often refer to this state as "the fog," for when enveloped by it, it feels as though we exist in another realm. It creates an illusion that our loved one is nearby, so close, yet deep down we know it is not so. It's as if we are forced to relive the loss repeatedly, enduring the anguish over and over again. No one can ever prepare themselves for this. No amount of support, faith, or community can equip us to triumph over grief. Grief simply exists. It must be felt. It must be experienced. Grief demands to be traversed and confronted head-on. There are no shortcuts or detours on this arduous path.
The valley leads to the mountain and that mountain we must climb.
Does our support system - family, friends, faith, and community - have a place as we navigate through this valley? Absolutely! I am writing today to express my gratitude for the unwavering support and sense of community I have experienced. From the moment I entered the waiting room, time seemed to pass by, but I was enveloped by an overwhelming amount of support from people all around the world. Even strangers reached out to me, and individuals from various communities that knew Josh, connected with me. Additionally, I have clung tightly to my faith, as it has been an integral part of my survival amidst the pain of my loss. Without any of these pillars of support, I cannot fathom how I would have made it through.
But in this valley of grief, it is Jesus who walks beside us, guiding us through the shadows and leading us towards the mountain ahead. He accompanies us every step of the way, navigating the treacherous terrain until we eventually ascend and conquer the summit. With His unwavering presence, He steers us on this journey until we reach our ultimate destination. I pray you find comfort in the bible verses below as I have.
Isaiah 41:10 (NIV): "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Psalm 23:4 (NIV): "Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."
Psalm 61:2 (NIV): "From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I."
Visiting his grave today at Bluff City Cemetery
No Headstone... Praying for one to mark his grave. I want others to know whose body lays here, my son... Joshua Baez (1998-2022).
#ChildLossJourney #RememberingJoshua #OneYearAnniversary #GoneButNeverForgotten #HealingThroughGrief #LoveTranscendsTime #HonoringMyChild #ForeverInOurHearts #LifeAfterLoss #FindingStrength #CherishedMemories #SupportInGrief #Faith #Jesus #ChristianBlogger #Psalm61v2 #Psalm23v4 #Isaiah41v10 #BluffCityCemetery #SouthElginIl #ElginIl