Imagine that you are standing on an iced-over lake during the dead of winter. Suddenly, you hear:

CRACK!

You see the ice below your feet starting to crack. You stand there, and the ice breaks further. So you begin to walk towards land, a place of safety. As you do so, you see and hear the ice cracking more and spreading across a larger area of the ice. 

The more pressure you put on the ice, the more it cracks.

Soon the ice below your feet is gone. Next thing you know, you are pulled under and moved around by the water’s force.

Looking up, you try to find where you fell in and the hole in the ice above you. Your breath can only sustain you for so long. 

Feeling hopeless that you’ll ever see the light of day.

This is how my grief feels.

While Archer was in the hospital, each test result and piece of news from the doctor felt like the ice under my feet was slowly cracking. I wanted out. I looked for solid land to stand on.

Before I could make it there, the ice broke. Archer was diagnosed with Alpers and wasn’t given a long life expectancy. (At one point, the doctor told us he thought he might only have a week of life left, and Archer only lived for six more days…).

My emotions and feelings pull me under, but I strive to find my joy, my light of day.