I am like a tree.

Jagged and pointy on the inside. Trying to figure out what needs to go where and hoping it will all end up in the right place. Some branches grow thick and long. Others do the opposite. The inside is full of the ruggedness of grief. It’s dark, but trying to make everything right.

Blossoming and lively on the outside. Even when it doesn’t feel like it, I am healing. When I look in the mirror I see a more colorful face. I’m wanting to grow more and show everyone that even though it is madness on the inside, life and loss have made me grow into the person I am today.

Leaves falling to get rid of the negative. The bad comments or why I feel when someone forgets about Jensen. I try to let them fall away because they’re only in the way of other beautiful things.

Inside the trunk of the tree lays rings. When you inspect them, you can find thick and thin breaks between the lines. Each tells a story about how the tree was in certain years. My post loss trunk is small. It’s stretched thin from the neglect I’ve put on myself. I hope when I look back, I don’t criticize its thinness, but rather be happy that I made it that far.

But no matter how I grow thick lively rings or if a new branch comes to join me, Jensen is supporting me. Always. Like a tree needing help when it first is planted, that’s what he’s done for me; because it sure feels like I’ve been planted into a new life. A new world. He lets me know he’s there, cheering me on and sending his love. He is my son and one of the biggest parts of me. His life and impact is most definitely my favorite part of this crazy story called life.