Look Forward. Not Back

Day 739.

It’s the early hours of October 10th. Luke has been dead 739 days. 

I have, for now, cast off my necklace. The diamonté chip FUCK. I cast it off because I am done with labeling myself with the anger, the shock. 

Yes it’s tarnished, yes it has brought much attention, smiles, and admiration, but I am through with having the awful shock and anger literally hanging around my neck.

I have a new silver embossed notebook, and I am writing with my new silver engraved fountain pen that is failing me as I write. 

I am searching for beauty.

I am searching for energy.

I am searching to be inspired.

At grief group this week, someone who lost their brother, Jess, to heroin 6 years ago, shared that part of their recovery was to stop searching for the who, when and hows that led Jesse to that fentanyl-laced heroin. The circumstances... the burning questions, the answers to which I too seek in Luke’s ending. They stopped searching because whenever they found answers, they brought no peace.

I have been so transfixed on a similar quest, thinking that the answers will give me peace, that somehow I owe it to Luke to found out, that as his Mum, I should know. I should know how he died.

But why? 

Stubbornness?

I do keep in touch with Marlon’s mother.

I do keep reaching out to Marlon in the hope that one day he will tell me.

But, in truth, I don’t really hold out much store in that. And if I do eventually get some truth, will it fall flat on me too? Will it give me no peace? No solace? 

And so why keep myself in that dark place?

And so, my new necklace is of a single diamond which shines brighter around my neck without the distraction of the word fuck and brings me to a more positive, more serene reflection of myself in the mirror. Eyes up, I look forward to work more positive than the dark discovery of the details of Luke’s death.

I vow now to look forward, not back. 

What can I do to help the world so full of grief? 

What can I contribute to this epidemic? 

How can I help?

I need to gain my strength. I need to look forward towards the light. I need to focus on what I can do. I need my strength for this. I need to be able to focus, albeit in an altered state.

I need help.

I need a wingman, someone who will propel me when I need to be. When I am less. 

Someone I can propel when they are less.

So far, these things have come my way just exactly when I need them. 

I need to be considered, so I don’t waste the opportunity when it is presented.

I need to cast off the heavyweight of Boston, keep my eye on the prize, and prepare myself.

Boston

The Revolution

Stretch my right side

Those are the three focuses of the coming week.

My sadness needs no cultivation. It is in me for always. But what needs cultivation is my strength, my power, my stamina, so that I may move forward and do good work wherever it may be needed. Wherever it presents itself.

A new age dawning in the loss of Luke. An age of progress, an age of positivity.

To join all the grieving mothers, all the organizations into one force for change. A unity much needed in a world where selfishness and greed has become so pervasive.

Vive la Revolution.

Vive la Sheila.

Vive la lukelove.