She reads a lot. Reading is something she enjoys. It helps her feel calm. One day, while reading like she always does, one line made her stop. As she read it, her body felt cold. The book said she was a victim. It said that because her son had died, she was now a victim. She had never thought of herself that way. Not ever. She was living with deep pain from losing her child. She was carrying a sadness heavier than anything she had ever known. The pain was worse than giving birth. It felt like surviving a death every single day. Still, that word did not feel right. She did not see herself as a victim. She closed the book and threw it away.
To her, being a victim was a choice. So was how a person carried grief. She knew sadness could take over someone’s life. It can leave a person feeling stuck. It could make them feel sorry for themselves all the time. It could keep them trapped in what was lost. She understood that feeling well. But she chose not to stay there. Deep inside, she believed people had the power to keep going, even after the worst things happened, even after heartbreak that felt too big to survive.
She remembered a story she once heard. It was about a woman whose only child had died. The woman had no husband and no other children. She felt alone and empty. She believed she had nothing left to live for. She even thought about ending her life. Then someone spoke to her with kindness and wisdom. They told her to think about what she had, not just what she lost. They told her to be thankful for the time she shared with her child. For the memories. For the love. For the people her child touched. They reminded her that without her, that child would never have existed. Those words helped bring her back to life.
She knew her own loss was just as real and painful. She and her family went through the shock of losing Alex to an overdose. Nothing could prepare them for that pain. Their lives changed forever. How could they not? Alex was gone, and so was the life they once knew. They had loved him for twenty-six years. Those years mattered. The memories from those years became her treasure. They were her proof that love still existed. She lived one moment at a time now. She knew she would never “get over” losing him. The pain did not leave. It just changed.
There was a time she thought she would never laugh again. She thought joy was gone forever. She felt she did not deserve happiness because she had lost a child. Grief knocked her down again and again. But slowly, she stood back up. Some days were small steps. Some days were hard. Still, she kept going. She chose to live. She survived. Her family survived. On her hardest days, she asked herself a question. If she had died, would she have wanted her son to stop living? Would she want him to sit in sadness forever? She knew the answer was no. Grief takes time. There is no clock for it. Everyone heals in their own way. Slowly, the pain stops filling every moment. One day, it is not the first thought in the morning.
They were not just surviving anymore. They were living. Life kept moving. There were weddings, babies, new friends, and new beginnings. Love was still there. They would never forget Alex. Not ever. She carries him in her heart. When asked how many children she has, she says three. One lives in heaven. She will always be the mother of three.
