I recently heard this question posed on a podcast and I have not been able to stop thinking about it.  My initial head voice was a bit sarcastic. Yep! It’s the gift that keeps on giving. It gives me: pain, sadness, anger, frustration, physical maladies, brain fog, a whole list of “what if’s”, regret, guilt, and questioning. But… then I had the opportunity to take several trips that calmed my world and opened space for true pondering. My first nudge to think differently, was a visit to the 911 Memorial and Museum. I went on my own, which by the way included my first independent Subway ride- I impressed myself. I actually picked up the audio tour and spent the time to hear the background and purpose for each item selected for the museum. The wall pictured below includes a quote made of iron. While the quote alone is powerful, it was the artists share that he used iron because when “iron is touched by fire, it goes through a transformative process.”

Hmm… I believe when I got the knock on the door 7 years ago this week, fire touched my life. It was immediate, physical and emotional pain. In that minute, what I didn’t believe was that I would ever find anything good resulting from the heartbreak of hearing, “Ma’am, your son didn’t survive.” As the days went by, I would slowly identify some good that would at least momentarily numb the heartbreak. My son was in the ultimate “good place” with no more sorrow or pain. That one “good” took me through a large amount of questioning. Selfishly, I would still prefer to have his big presence in my home, going through my pantry, making up Jackisms, and hugging me from behind while I’m at the kitchen counter. I found good in my son’s story and life choices, but that good could have been extended had this not happened. So, to keep that good going, the #loveBIG Foundation was formed. As his story and our response were shared, I started receiving requests from friends to help other hurting moms and dads that were walking through tough times, teenage angst, or even grief from child loss. This might be a text string or phone calls or FB messages, but I could do that. I could show up to explain there would be some good again, in time, after the heartbreak. This led to me joining the Stephen Ministry program at my church. If I’m going to use my experience, I want to use it well. This created a place for me to offer my ears and empathy beyond just the casual requests from friends. During these seven years, gosh that’s hard to type… how is it 7, our family has endured several other losses and changes. One endurance encountered is ushering our youngest though some tough stuff. Post Concussion Syndrome to physical ailments to mental health challenges… we have battled alongside her. I must admit during these trials, I am/was guilty of questioning…more heartbreak? Really? When does the break come? When does the good lighten the backpack we carry that feels full of rocks? During my more recent travels, it dawned on me, I really was enjoying traveling (which I always thought I hated). I was meeting new people, hearing their stories, slowing down to match their pace of life, and appreciating their history.  I could build connections, appreciate others, and empathize far more deeply than prior to that knock. Traveling allowed for more time to walk and appreciate my surroundings. Quiet the sarcastic voice and really consider the question I heard in the fall of 2023.   If you are still reading this very disconnected post, you may be putting it together. It took a lot of ah ha moments for me to receive the message. My belief system has changed a bit in the past seven years. Like iron, the heat of the fire of grief and life, has transformed me in multiple ways. The iron doesn’t form letters perfectly with one moment of fire, but the iron must be worked, molded, the heat turned up and down-a transformative process.  I am ready to say that, while I would not wish for a loss like Jack for anyone, ever, the heartbreak has become my gift.  In the transformation, I slow down, travel, listen, empathize, minister, walk alongside, and have more insight than I did before. I will forever have a before and after. I am confident in stating that out of heartbreak, I have found my gift.