I’m walking the dog today and I see this on the sidewalk. I wonder about the story behind it. It’s not new but I walk over it every day and never saw it before. How could I have missed it? Especially something so fit for this project.
It represents the love I still have for Charles even though he died by suicide. Love that has nowhere to land somedays because he’s not physically here to receive it. So it rests heavy in my chest.
Even though I’ve suffered the most devastating loss of my life, I can never lose hope. And for those who suffer suicidal thoughts, or have a loved one who does, please don’t let that last shred of hope ever escape.
There are times I feel boxed in a room with no exit– the hurt and ache surrounding me so completely I can’t breathe. I don’t even want to move. How long does this last? When will it stop? Make it stop!
Even now, I have that same feeling of wanting to escape, of feeling smothered and screaming, “Let me out damn it!” The waves are not as long and not as often as they were a year ago. But it still hurts so much sometimes. You never imagined your child would die by suicide.
So my cousin Lee Anne and I are coming back from after lunch today and both of our necks snap as we spot this off in the distance.
This tree is all split all up from the violent thunderstorm last night–large tree limbs everywhere. She and I spotted this from the car off in the distance at the same time and said in unison we say, “A griefheart!” I can’t even figure out how nature made this one. It’s like the storm carved it out of the wood at the top just for me.