“Good morning Finn” is how I start almost everyday.
I am in my 3rd year of journaling. My journal is a daily note to my. I started writing to Finn on my first day back to work after he died.
I have no idea if Finn can read or know what I am typing. Of course, I would love if he could! But I honestly don’t know that I would be disappointed if he didn’t. Just the exercise of communicating with Finn brings me peace.
The shadows of grief can be so paralyzing. There have been countless days that I wake up in the morning with no energy or ambition or hope. But, most days I make myself write to Finn. This feels like an accomplishment. I can actually know that when I go to bed I can say “at least I wrote Finn a note.”
It is twisted, but even if he can’t know what I wrote, journaling is good for me. I know Finn would be happy to know that I am trying to take care of myself. So writing to Finn is a silly way to take care of myself. On the days that I don’t journal, which are rarer and rarer as time goes by, I feel very guilty. I feel like I let Finn down and I also feel like I miss opportunities to be with him.
Most thoughts in most notes are just trivial accounts of the morning or the previous day. I almost always start with how I am feeling right then. Lots of notes start with “I am so tired” or “life is so hard”. Many times I have conversations with Finn and ask him questions. At times profound thoughts and memories and ideas come to mind. When this happens, I copy these to a “things to write about later” file. This document got very long and lead me into flushing out these ideas which has turned into attempting to write a blog.
I have never gone back to reread any of my notes to Finn. I can’t think of any tangible reason why I don’t reread these. But I haven’t done it. I suspect that there is some unknown reason that is holding me back. I doubt it is avoiding grief since I tend to take every opportunity to “grieve”. I probably don’t reread them because it isn’t the time yet. I trust if and when a time comes to read these, then I will be given a gift. My ego believes that there is a wealth of first hand knowledge of what grief is like at least for me. Perhaps a valuable tool in blogging about grief :)
Grief and missing my beautiful son is one of the cores of who I am. Parents never stop thinking about their kids whether they are alive or dead or living at home or apart. Writing to Finn every day is a powerful way for me to ground myself in this part of me. When I hide or bury grief, it comes back to kick me and at unexpected and often less than ideal times. The more separated I am from the grief the more it hurts and the further it knocks me down when it kicks me in the gut. So writing to Finn is a daily way to stay grounded to my grief in a place that is safe.
I’m not sure if blogging will stick, but journaling is a permanent rock in my life. It has directly lead into many positive gifts. My morning routine now includes stretching, meditating, and making the bed as well as journaling. Journaling has lead to ideas that I have found worth expanding and sharing. Most importantly, writing a letter to Finn gives me a daily chance to visit with my beautiful son.
