Life can take us through dark times, and we are the only ones who can choose how we walk through the darkness. I am often asked how I survived the death of my daughter and son, and the truthful answer I give is the fire inside of me burned brighter than the fire around me. My children live on through me as I continue moving forward.  There are days when grief still crashes over me, but it has lessened over time. It doesn't mean that I love my children any less now, but that I carry the grief differently. I chose to focus on all the precious memories we shared.

Healing from a tragedy isn't easy, and it has been one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. My healing journey is far from over as I continue it. I was fortunate to have many individuals surround me with support as I navigated through the unthinkable. There were times I just wanted to be completely alone to sit with my grief. Looking back on it now, I am thankful for those who were always there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to me vent, a laugh to lighten up a heavy day, and a hug when it was much needed. Grief and trauma can be overwhelming to manage on your own. No one can walk your journey for you, but they can walk alongside you, helping you through the darkness.

Initially, I wanted to be invisible, a word I often used when the tragedy happened. It is one thing to go through a tragedy privately, but when it's all over the news, it's a different world. From the moment I was told my children were no longer with us, my children's tragic deaths were publicized. I was flooded with reporters wanting to talk with me, and I am beyond thankful for my family, who took it upon themselves to try and shield me from the outside world. I wanted to be left alone to try and comprehend the unimaginable tragedy that had just occurred, but I wasn't given that opportunity. 

I have never liked to be the center of attention, and one might call me an extrovert in some situations, but at my core, I am an introvert. I tend to escape to the ocean to clear my head and re-center myself. There is something about sitting on the water's edge, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath that can bring me back to the present moment. It is so easy to live in the past, replay conversations, remember our last moments with our loved ones, and all the what-ifs that creep in. I have had my fair share of going down the rabbit hole, preventing me from being present. The ocean has always been where I felt safe enough to let my guard down and be my authentic self.

Over the years, I have talked about the tragedy with health professionals and those in my close circle, and it is exhausting to keep taking yourself back to the past. Someone once told me you are healing when you can tell your story without crying. I don't know how I feel about that. I don't think you can measure someone's healing progress by the amount of tears they shed or the lack thereof. Everyone's healing journey looks different. In the beginning, I was hard on myself for not being able to cry like I thought a grieving mother should be crying. I was in shock and numb. I genuinely believe that for me, the healing started when the tears began to pour out, and to this day, when I talk about the tragedy, tears still form in the corners of my eyes.

I can't erase my past, no matter how badly I want to, and I have learned to accept it as part of who I am today. I couldn't control how my story started, but I can control where it goes. I hope to be a voice of strength for others going through a difficult time.

My children were my world, and I miss them every day. They continue to shine through me as I turn the page to begin to write the next chapter in my life. This is the journey of a woman who eventually found joy and laughter again after her world was shattered.

-C