Grief is the cost of having shared life with someone you love…someone worth living with. For me, that someone is my son Jacob.
Fourteen-year-old Jacob and five companions were killed while on a church mission trip in Mexico. His death shook me, hurling me into a grief cycle that nearly cost me my sanity. After eight years of trying to come to terms with the accident I discovered something — pain and joy could coexist within me. I could experience the sting of Jake’s death yet at the same time feel God’s comfort without having to pretend I was OK with what happened. You see, I’m not OK with it—I’m not going to be OK with it. Jake is irreplaceable in my life, but somehow I have learned to live in his absence.
My book, Back to Tonic conveys my struggle and the long road back to peace with God. However, in the process of sharing that story I discovered something, I like to write. Writing as it turns out is therapeutic.
So this is my blog and my therapy. I write about Jake, I write about family, I write about me. I write about whatever strikes my fancy. I choose not to dwell in grief — I choose to live.
Jake would have wanted it that way.
Patchwork 