As you can imagine, losing a child comes with a lot of darkness. Interminable sadness. Heavy constant guilt. Persistent denial. Relentless anger. It can make sinking into a deep depression extremely simple.
It's a dangerous path that I have not allowed myself to travel too deeply. Surely I have had terrible days. There are gaps of time which are forever gone from my memory. The days and months following Preston's death. In that time span, I have some very vivid, too vivid memories. The rest though is blank. How I coped? How I felt? Numb is perhaps the best way to explain it?
Still, I do know that I tried everything to not allow myself to get to a place that was too dark. I made an effort to smile or laugh daily, because that is what Preston would want. I've promised myself to allow myself to feel the darkness when it creeps in. It sometimes feels good to be sad. To cry. To be angry. I'd go as far as to say that it is necessary to let the dark in.
Much like with an eclipse, after the darkness, the light returns. With every day that ends with the sun setting, each new day begins with the sun rising, even when we can't see it due to cloud cover. "Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere nearby". I wrote a post based on this quote back in February. It's linked in the event you are interested.
The point is, grief can also bring about light. It is not easy to come by and requires willpower. I've been able to embrace the light by trying my best to honor Preston's memory. The memory of this happy little being. My promise to him has been to try and smile every day. If I can accomplish that, then I feel like I'm fulfilling my oath. Some days the smiles are few. And that's okay.
What's worked for me is to basically let the darkness in when it needs to, but to remember that the light is always around the corner. You just basically have to be open to let it in.
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