There truly is a time and a season for everything. When someone is gone, you are grateful for the time you had with them. You are grateful for the periods of your life you were with them, and you grow to cherish that time. A period of our lives that people do not often cherish though, is a time to grieve.

Grieving is healthy and necessary. I feel though that grieving can bring many good things with it. For example, I feel that each time I grieve and feel that pain in my heart, it reminds me of how deep my love is for Parker. When I grieve, it is also a time when my heart and soul turn heavenward. It is a feeling that is so sincere and heartfelt, I truly cannot describe it. During those times I have received such meaningful and deep revelation to my heart's desires and questions, that I have grown to be thankful for the pain. I have been thankful for the blessing to grieve. I feel that having a time to grieve, and being able to grieve is a gift from God, and is something that blesses our lives.

I'm very religious- just as a disclaimer. I'm LDS, and I feel that as I started to look (especially in the early history of my church), I saw a theme of how grief, and a period of sorrow, blesses the lives of those in pain because of the insight and revelation they receive.

There was a time when Joseph Smith was so anguished over what happened to his people (rapes, murders, pillaging), that he sunk into despair and grieved. He prayed to God, and received what could be deemed as one of the most beautiful revelations of scripture of comfort and protection.

Another time, there was a prophet named Joseph Fielding Smith, who following the death of his son in law and daughter, was grieving for their loss and when thinking about those who had passed on, received some of the most clear and valuable revelations about life after death. This revelation is the foundation of my, and millions of other people's understanding of life after death.

Another time with Joseph Smith, his friend King Follet passed away, and at his funeral when Joseph was preaching he gave one of the most pure sermons speaking of the origin of God, man, and our spirits.

The loss of children lead to Joseph Smith's revelations on the salvation of little children. Joseph's grief and concern for his brother Alvin's well-being in the afterlife lead to the revelation and restoration of sacred temple ordinances.

Essentially, my whole religion is built upon other's griefs, sorrows and trials, and subsequent revelations.

 There is a pattern that I just think is very interesting. A person can be humbled, or brought down to sorrow due to a death of a loved one. At this time, their hearts will turn towards the Lord, and when they inquire in faith they can receive incredible, life-changing revelation.

For myself, I know that this is true. I felt such deep grief, and when I turned to the Savior I personally felt such incredible love and honestly, redemption. Redemption from my soul-tearing pain, redemption from myself, my own inadequacies, redemption from the hard things of this life.

I truly have come to be grateful for this time of grief in my life, and what it has given me the chance to learn. I know that it is something that while hard, grief has blessed my life.

Gah. Fine, I'm doing it.

I've wanted to do this so many times.

I've felt like I should do this countless times.

Why haven't I?

Well, who wants to talk about pain. Who wants to share something that can sometimes make them just cry uncontrollably. Tears silently slide down cheeks for what feels like hours.

Have you ever had chapped cheekbones because you've been crying so much? It's the worst- especially if you continue to cry. It's like in addition to all of your raw emotional pain you now have this painful physical annoyance that makes you just a bit more distressed.

Who wants to go from feeling fine some days, almost feeling like you don't have a care in the world, to bringing up a topic that makes you feel as hollow as a steel drum. Inside it's walls is a deafening silence that is hollow, yet fills the space.

Sometimes when I think about it, I forget to breathe. Which then cues trying to catch your breath, and when you crying it just leads to hyperventilating. Bleh.

When I was little, my mom tells me I was a bit of a drama queen. I would cry at everything. I don't remember when I changed, but there was a time when I made an association that crying is weakness, and weakness is bad.

When Parker died in Feb 2013, I tried to hold it all together. It lasted for a little while, and then I grieved a bit in private, and felt a smidge of resolution. Then four months later I went on my LDS mission, and didn't want to be "that sister", the weak one, the problem child. So I tried to hold it together. I can think of four occasions during that year and a half when I slipped and broke down. During that time I just tried to simply not think of the pain. I could think and speak of the event, but just separated my feelings from it. I wrapped them up and placed them inside of me, always there, always felt, but covered up.

That phrase, "holding it together" is such an interesting one. When Parker died, I was just in shock. I think about after four or five days, I felt as if parts of my soul broke off into pieces. It's as if before my soul was within my whole being, but afterwards there were these large cracks, and some parts even felt as is the fell off. I physically felt it. I physically felt broken. Even now I can remember where each specific piece and each crack were.

The only way my soul was put back into place was through deep and honest prayer. Gosh, geez, here comes the tears, again. Twice now. Even just thinking back to that time after Parker died when I was praying brings back a few tears of pain. I prayed so earnestly, truly with my whole heart and soul. I talked to God like he was right there, telling him about the pain I felt. I asked him to help me, or to kill me right then because I couldn't stand it. I couldn't take the soul splitting pain. For some reason I never asked why or why now, I just couldn't take it. Not having Parker around, and having him leave so suddenly brings me a lot of pain to think about- even now.

My soul was healed, and like I said, it was through deep and honest prayer to God. After one specific time I felt such warmth, peace, and pieces were placed back together so that they were touching. They would still need to mend, but at least I was whole again.

Even though I felt and received healing from God, I still had to grieve. I still have yet to grieve. It's odd how these two pains are different, but they are. You can be at peace, but still need to grieve.

Now, it's been just over two and a half years since I've seen Parker. Two years since I would sneak up and hug him from behind, from hearing his stories, from texting him "Ich liebe dich". In that time, I've done a lot, learned a few lessons, and there is one issue that I regret. I wish I had been more open to those around me as to how I was feeling at the time. I can only think of.... 1, 2, 3.... times in the past two and a half years when I was open with another about the depth of my pain, while I was in pain. I can now look back and see how it could have benefitted many situations, and also realizing that sometimes people are helped by it. I have had people, sometimes even strangers come up to me and talk to me about my blog. Huh. Funny isn't it? For some reason by reading about another's pain, it can be therapeutic and calm or settle our own internal trials. Maybe it's knowing that someone else is there and can know of a type what we are going through. No one wants to be alone.

So that is why now, I'm going to be posting about grief.  It will be about experiences I have had, or am currently enduring. It also will be about certain things I have had the opportunity to learn or go through during this process. I will post when I emotionally can, and I will post as frequently as I can.