The last post I wrote was six months ago (October 18, 2015) and before that, three months (July 18, 2015). To not write anything over the holidays, his birthday (Jan. 16) or his death anniversary (March 18) would've been unthinkable two years ago. Similarly, I'd never thought that weekly visits to the park (his gravesite) would cease but they have.
It has been a full seven years since Josh left us and while he remains frozen in time as a 17-year old teenage boy, I continue on the conveyer belt of life which has a way of filling the gaping hole of loss, and softening the sharp, ragged edges which once cut incessantly.
And while his absence is always with me, it is more like a shadow rather than an "in-your-face" punch.
So in my experience, the adage is true: "Time heals."
I am careful to say "in my experience" because I can only speak for myself. Everyone's experience is uniquely theirs, not subject to critique or judgement.
But sadness hovers, especially when twice today, I've been asked if my contact information could be given to newly grieving moms. "Yes, of course," I say, "along with the URL of this blog."
And my heart breaks for them.