Door
At the end of my year-long tunnel of grieving I can see ~ through my tears ~ a radiant glass door. On June 29, 1994 I plan to open that door, walk through it, and close it behind me.
For the rest of my life I will be able to look back and see through the clear glass to the memories of this past twelve months, but I choose not to open the door again and return down that hall of intense emotions and difficult decisions. All of the painful first anniversary dates will be behind the door: the first Thanksgiving and Christmas ~ the first birthday ~ the first Mother’s Day ~ and, finally, the first anniversary of Paul’s death. I choose to make the second anniversaries somewhat easier.
As I walk through the glass door at the end of the hall I face a future that is bright with a heart that is full. Though the pain of my son’s suicide will always be a part of me, it is diminishing. It is being replaced daily with the love of a comforting God and my faithful friends and family. They have steadfastly shared my journey to the glass door, and I trust them to continue to be with me on the other side of it. For all of that I am truly grateful.
So, I soon face an anniversary ~ and a victory.
I made it through the first year!