Today started off like any other day. I woke up, touched Jensen’s urn, and thanked God I made it through another night. When I was out of bed, I talked to Jensen and told him what I had planned for the rest of the day: work, therapy, clean the house, and then the blink-182 concert tonight. The morning went seemingly ‘normal,’ until it came time for therapy. That’s when I learned about the hurt in healing.

My favorite little button nose.
It hit me, today is Tuesday. My son died on a Tuesday and it wasn’t the first thing that popped in my mind. It’s been eighteen weeks and that doom that I’ve felt on every Tuesday since he’s been born, skipped today. Honestly, I didn’t even process this usually huge trigger day, until I was mid-conversation with my counselor. I was talking about healing and trying my best to continue moving forward in this life after loss. Then I realized I’m healing more than I realize each day. Instead of doom, I felt thankful to be alive and that I was able to touch Jensen’s urn. Instead of crying all morning, I talked to Jensen about what I’m looking forward to doing in the day. This Tuesday wasn’t as heavy as any other one.









