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Broken Bowl Workshop

Theo and I have been attending a twice-a-month group of other parents who have lost their children. Through this group, we have been able to meet new people or stay connected with those we had already met who are all experiencing the loss of their child(ren). 

Theo and I were very nervous about going our first time. It’s an hour’s drive both ways, which is a commitment, but after attending our first workshop, we loved it. We were excited to keep going back.

We did a workshop called the “Broken Bowl.” Each of us got to select a little white bowl. The bowl was perfect, with no blemishes. It was meant to represent us with our children. 

We then placed the bowl inside a large zip-lock bag. We set it on the floor and put one foot lightly on top of the bowl.

SMASH! 

We got to hit our bowl with a hammer, and our bowl broke. This is precisely how Archer’s death hit me. The moment he passed, I became completely broken. I didn’t think it would be possible to pull myself back together. 

We then took each of the pieces and painted on the outside of them. What we painted is how we feel the world sees us.

The inside of the bowl is meant to have quotes, verses, or sayings that we are holding onto right now. Mine are just a few of the things that are keeping me together most days.

We then took the time to glue all our pieces back together to create as close to the original bowl as possible. I did pull myself back together after Archer; however, I am not the same person I once was.

Out of my bowl’s cracks, you will see gold, and I would say that out of my cracks, you will see the real me, everything I have learned, and everything I am using to keep myself together.

The whole bowl represents me. What you see on the outside, what I am holding to on the inside, and the things I am learning have held me together are all part of the ‘new’ me. 

However, I have a hole. 

This hole is where the hammer hit; this hole is Archer. It would have been impossible to put back the pieces of this part of the bowl, and it would be impossible for me ever to be who I was when I had Archer. No object, event, person, or child can fill this hole. My hole will never go away; it is a part of me.

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