Steering Through Grief: A Journey of Recovery

This is Part 2 of my article series "Embracing Resilience in the Face of Adversity: A Personal Journey." Stay tuned for Part 3, coming in a few weeks.

In the early days of my grief, following the loss of my son Parker, I found myself seeking solace in solitude, driving my Mustang (California Special Edition) down winding country roads. With the roof open (heat on full as it was early spring by this time...lol) and the sun beaming in, I looked up at the sky, my heart heavy with sorrow, and asked, "Why, God? Why did you take Parker?" At that moment, not only was I grappling with the loss of my son, but I was also battling to save a company on the brink of bankruptcy, with all my employees depending on me.

As I pressed the gas pedal, the roar of the engine filled the air. A thought crossed my mind, dark and desperate: "It could all be over right now if I just veered off and slammed into a tree. Done, pain gone, no more suffering." Gripping the steering wheel tightly in my left hand, downshifting with my right, I accelerated, speeding down that country road. A big, fat maple tree caught my eye. "Yes, that's the one," I thought. "That will end it. This will end my suffering."

But as I continued to accelerate, the sun's rays piercing through, a different vision emerged. I saw my daughter's face, smiling. My wife, beaming with love. My employees, joyful and content, shaking hands, enjoying themselves. My stepson and I engaged in meaningful discussions. These weren't visions urging me not to do it; they were reflections of happiness, gratitude, love, and kindness. As I realized this, I found that I had unconsciously decreased my speed, now driving calmly and smoothly.

Pulling over, I gently wiped the tears from my cheeks and completely broke down. Sobbing, shaking, crying – I understood that I couldn't end it. My family was counting on me, and my HET family depended on me. Our clients, partners, customers – they all relied on me. The thoughts and visions that had flooded my mind as I headed towards that big old maple tree were not deterrents but affirmations of the good in my life: joy, love, and the impact I had on others.

As my sadness began to drift away, I found myself smiling. A sense of calmness enveloped me, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of joy, a hint of happiness. With this newfound sense of purpose, I turned the car around and headed back home. I walked the house, my wife looking at me with a concerned and sad look. I stood there staring at her, my eyes slowly filling up with water, I slowly walked over to her, wrapped my arms around her and cried. She held me tightly not saying a word. From the tightness of her arms around me I could feel her love for me. I hugged her back and told her I loved her.

This moment was a turning point for me. It was when I realized that the strength to continue, to face each day, came not just from within but also from the love and support of those around me. This journey of healing and resilience is not just mine; it's a path shared with those who care for me and depend on me. Their smiles, their happiness, their needs – these are the beacons that guide me through the darkest times. As comforted as I was at the time, little did I know that there was a lot of pain, sadness and struggles to come my way. More about that in the next few articles.

In sharing this story, my hope is to reach out to anyone who feels overwhelmed by their struggles. Remember, you are not alone. The thoughts that haunt you in your darkest moments do not define your worth or your journey. Look around you, find strength in the connections you have, and let these be the light that guides you back home. If you struggle to speak with someone or feel you have nobody that you can speak with, reach out to me. I would be more than happy to listen.