As I planted my veggie seeds last spring, I sensed a joy to bring in new life. As I now tear down my garden, I am relieved the work is almost done. I sense a sadness. Why? you may ask. So close to the birthday of my deceased son, Joshua. It’s a very hard season indeed.

I am still here.

I walk this earth.

I work and work to fill my mind and heart with the good that God has allowed me to have. I share my life with others in hopes it may help in some small way, and I’m still here.

I miss my son and this time of year will never be easy. Easier, but never easy. I won’t fool myself into thinking otherwise. Right now, it’s getting hard to feel joy when I wake in the mornings, but now I know what it is. Grief. Sorrow. Sadness for a son I can no longer hug, whose forehead I can no longer kiss, or debate issues with. For eight years, I’ve had this void.

Now that I understand so much more, when I wake and I feel that empty spot within me, I let myself feel it. Then, I think of our Lord and a warmth comes over me. I know that God loves me. He understands me better than I do. I have my Lord.

For those of you who are just beginning this journey of loss of a child, know that you can still be here and grow in the Lord. You will stumble, but God will carry you.

If you are willing.

Remember Who it is that loves you most.

Jean Williams 2012

Jean Williams

Jean Williams, a freelance writer, lost her young adult son Joshua to suicide in 2004. She lives in Southern Oregon in a mountain valley community where she works on short stories for adults and novels for young people. She grows a large garden on an acre of land with her husband, who is a retired police detective. Jean is the mother of three grown children and grandmother of 12. Jean has been a practicing Christians for 38 years and owes her life to God. Many times after Joshua's death, Jean wished she could join her son in the afterlife, but her faith in God kept her on earth. The last few years have been filled with joy, as Jean reaches out to help others through their grief process.

More Articles Written by Jean