My family – a constant source of inspiration

Some of my most powerful sources of inspiration come from family, especially since the passing of my son.  In particular my sources of inspiration are my dear sons one of whom I lost in August, 2017.  His brothers inspire me with their strength and fortitude.  They have maintained work and school, to a standard of which I am so proud. But you know, just getting to work and to school would have been enough for me.  It has been so difficult to pick up and take off again and they have both done so with such grace and kindness, I am so blessed to have such wonderful sons.

Then there was the birth of my first grandchild in July of this year.  My youngest daughter is the mum of little Addalin and she has taken on her role of motherhood with absolute power.  Sure, she needed some practical help in the beginning  but who doesn’t?  I was amazed at her ability to go through the pregnancy whilst mourning her brother, bringing new life into the world while mourning the loss of life and both aspects occurring inside the one family.  Personally, I found it so conflicting and difficult to reconcile.  Whilst I celebrated her birth with genuine and deep joy, at the same time it brought back the feelings of loss to such a monumental degree that I found it confusing just to function during the day, and night, for that matter.   Both Addalin and Adam are innocent souls, one dwelling in this world and the other dwelling in the another world, of which we know nothing except what we feel and what we believe.  I have caught glimpses of this spiritual world’s existence through happenings with Adam.  I saw him sitting on the edge of the couch about 2 days after he died, sort of hazy and with some type of glow or cloudy substance surrounding his body.  Then during a dream, I suddenly felt as though I woke up, I looked to the left of me and there was Adam coming through the doorway in the lounge room, his hand was on the door knob and he was looking at me.  Looking at me without expression on his face.  Then I lied back down and slept.  What to make of this?  I fully believe he came to visit me but there didn’t appear to be a message.

Then there is his twin sister, Sara.  I feel a different type of pain for her pain.  It must feel as though half of her has gone somewhere.  Her loss is profound.  She hasn’t spoken to me of this.  Perhaps one day she might.  But through it all, she has also maintained her routine of work and play, but the tears do fall at the most random of times, just as they do for me.  Just as they do for all of us, I guess.  His older brother Ary doesn’t talk of his feelings much, he is stoic, private and just does what he has to do.

Today marks the 15 month anniversary of Adam’s passing and we are going to the cemetery.  The headstone is being erected today.  It is a special day and I honestly don’t know how I will react.  I have been a bit out of sorts all day, teary and crying like a wounded animal just before I started writing this piece.  I will speak about how I reacted, how we all reacted in another post.

I believe with all my heart that my son has blessed us, he knows how much I have suffered since he passed on.  He dwells somewhere that I can’t always tap into, but at other times I feel very connected, spiritual, close to my son, able to talk to him, to tell him that I love him and I promise him that I will never stop talking about him so that people will remember him, until the day I die.

My darling granddaughter, she is angelic and like an angel sent from heaven, her face is cherubic, with big wondering eyes, she is curious about everything in this world, and she will know about her Uncle Adam, even though she cannot meet him here.  I vow that she will know about him.  She was sent as our salve, our saving grace in the midst of the most gut wrenching and heart breaking grief.  There were some days I thought I would never come out of this terror, because I felt that I was drowning in it.  I couldn’t breathe.  Her birth brought us joy, lifting the veil somewhat so that we could see life again.

Now that I have spoken about the visit to the cemetery, perhaps I won’t be as overwrought as I thought I would be.

Until next time xxx

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