My grief is now like a glass cage that surrounds me and contains only the bare essentials to sustain life. There is nothing inside to take for granted and nothing to waste. People can come peer in and gaze at the magnitude of my situation but are not allowed entrance to comfort, assist, or truly understand. Perhaps the cage represents the walls I have built around my heart to prevent future breakage or the fragile loneliness and personal isolation of grief, I am not yet certain. I do however believe the key to my freedom lies somewhere in acceptance a concept that so far continues to elude me.

The things we take for granted along this journey end up being the things we value the most. The little insignificant details of life don’t matter much day to day but when they are gone we long for them. Replaying tiny moments over and over again in our minds… A smile, a hug, a conversation. We really can’t leave much behind of value when we go but our relationships with others. Relationships are the bond in life, the comfort in death, and the cords that tie us together in eternity.

“ This is not my life”. I had this revelation on Thursday morning when I was sitting across the desk from an engineer who was explaining the Static Stability Factor to me. I drove five hours to see him in an effort to try and comprehend how this accident could happen to J.T., to understand the numerous design flaws of the Yamaha Rhino. I began to think wow this is really an amazing thing, I cant believe I’m sitting here. I am supposed to be a housewife in East Texas,not some public speaking, computer blogging, ATV activist! We don’t always know as humans what we are capable of; we have no idea of our limits. I truly believe that accomplishing some things lies only in our will to do so. I found this quote by Tom Krause earlier that basically sums it up: “If you only do what you know you can do-you never do very much.”

In my mind is an ongoing tennis match. I am constantly lobbing my worries to the other side of my mind sending them momentarily out of my control only to have them come screaming back across the net at me seconds later. I am not sure who occupies the court on the opposing side but they have a hell of a backhand.

I find myself continuing to compare the loss of J.T. to surviving a fire. Now granted I have never had to survive a fire but I can imagine what it might be like. Walking around sifting through great mountains of charred debris trying to find things to put into a box marked “treasures”. Looking desperately at each item and wishing I could restore its value. The black soot covering my hands and face, not stopping because I know there is something in this pile I could hold on to, something to remind me of what I had. I often feel like I am sorting through the smoldering treasures of my life searching for understanding. Looking for greater knowledge of my situation. Picking pieces up, trying to assign it some value and more likely than not watching it crumble and run through my fingers like warm, black sand. Trying to comprehend what is now important, reburying my regrets and not stopping until I find something to hold on to.