Ashton ~ 2 years old with baby brother, Jacob.

This past Christmas season, as December’s days crept up to the 25th, I found myself wanting to hide. I didn’t realize I was doing it at the time, but looking back, I see now that I was. Maybe it’s called something different. Maybe it’s normal for grieving. Maybe other grieving souls do it too. Maybe it comes when the grief is at its peak. Maybe it’s dreading the season when families come together and children come home for Christmas break.

I say I wanted to hide. I didn’t do it often, but as the days got closer to Christmas, I just wanted to stay home in my comfortable place — and I did sometimes. We had some things planned to do together on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day that Carter went to without me.  I couldn’t go and pretend. Sometimes I just can’t do that. Pretending I’m fine is difficult and stressful sometimes.

Most of the time I want the whole world to know that our Ashton died. But there are times when I wish nobody knew and I could go shopping or walk in the post office or to church and be the person I used to be a year ago… just me… with no suicide in my past… no child buried… and no stamp on my forehead that says: Broken.

I know this broken-ness is a temporary thing. I will feel mended and remodeled and useful again someday. That broken term will not fit anymore. I don’t want to dwell on the term, but sometimes it’s the only way I can describe myself. It fits for now. Surely my heart will grow out of that size and burst at the seams with new growth, new life and light. I believe it will. God has plans for me beyond this difficult season. I do believe He does.

Over this last year, I have read and people have reminded me to be gentle with myself. I wasn’t sure how to do that, but I think I know now what that means. Sometimes, I’m not able to do all that I usually do, like at Christmas time. I couldn’t physically and emotionally do everything. Sometimes things take too much energy and brain power. My brain couldn’t multitask and do all that needed to be done. I knew that and could feel it. I had to scale back the holiday duties I expected of myself and be gentle with me. My family handled it well. They were gentle with me also.

This makes me remember how my Heavenly Father is gentle with me. I’ve never felt chastised by Him. I’ve never felt that He was disappointed with me. I believe He is a positive guy. I believe He cheers at every good thing I accomplish and wants to help when I’m not doing my best.

I found this quote that fits right now:

“Note to Self: I am doing the best I can with what I have in this moment and that is all I can expect of anyone, including me.”

The one year anniversary of Ashton’s death is looming, January 28th. Perhaps that gentleness will need to continue.

Written by Faye