Sacred Silence ~ Journal Entry #3

BookSacredSilence

 

Journal Entry #3

August 27th, 2013

I did something today I never thought I’d ever do. Leave the house with a smile on my face.

I couldn’t help it, nor could I hide it. The love of my two sisters and my mother had cradled me with grace this morning. Our very first stop was at the floral shop two blocks from our house to buy a bouquet of white lilies. Lilies for Zach. The four of us sat together, my mother Beatrice, my older sister Lainey and my baby sister Paula, arms around shoulders, and soft fingers wiping away tears as we reminisced about my son while sitting by his grave. The sun was hot, sweat running down my brow and it was only ten in the morning. A Texas summer for you…but I wouldn’t have traded that moment for the world. It was strangely comforting beyond measure.

It felt odd having to say goodbye, running my hands along the parched earth before bending over to kiss the ground I knew my son lay underneath. After leaving the cemetery, I honestly wanted to return home to my seclusion. I felt safest there. But my mother insisted on lunch and some time away. When my mother insisted things, you didn’t argue. A small part of me didn’t really want to. I wanted to feel the love that I knew had gone missing.

There was a quote I saw on a store window today in downtown Dallas.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.” – Joseph Campbell

I saw a future with Miles before we ever married. I saw a future when I found out I was pregnant. I saw a future when I learned that I would become a mother to a little boy. I saw a future when I let him go…and it was ugly.

Yet somehow I see a small measure of hope in my world. A blessed future. Life doesn’t end here. I will see my son again. Although he is absent from my arms, he is mine. I am a mother. My future consisted of me becoming a mom, and I am. Regardless of the heartache that longs to destroy me. My future has brought me here, and with my head held high, I have the right to grieve, but I also have the right to live. I will live for the memory of my son.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at http://www.valeriekingbooks.com