There I sat,my 3-day-old infant in my arms, trembling in apprehension as chaos and horror played out in my living room. Muffled by my bedroom door were sirens, and chattering voices,and screams that will forever haunt my dreams. Frozen and in a state of shock, all I could see in my mind was the lifeless face of the only man I ever intended to love, or his lips white and his body lying on the floor in an unnatural state. "I couldn't feel a pulse,but he has to be alive," I told myself. A police officer slowly opened my door and disturbingly made his way to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, and I could see the willing arms of family members reaching out for my infant son. As the words "He's deceased" came out of the officer's mouth,all went black. A stray bullet is how the news reported the tale, but we will never know the whole truth. The bullet that killed Justin went against pure logic and had a statistical probability of one in infinity. In a drunken stupor, or my backyard neighbor fired his 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The bullet managed to travel through his screen door (dodging dozens of trees) over 200 feet to our home. It crashed through our glass door and blinds,continued across our living room, and finally stopped when it hit Justin in the head at the very second he jumped up from our sofa. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day old-baby and now a dead husband.
It's been two years since that tragic day, and at 33 years old,I see myself a much sadder but wiser girl. Going through something so horrific and life-altering not only changes the way you see the world, it transforms it. Grief is a very personal thing, or while I would never claim to be an expert on coping,I execute know firsthand how to live with it. I like to compare it to a scar. More specifically, an internal scar on your heart and in your mind that follows you everywhere. A unlit cloud that hovers over everything grand and ravishing for the rest of your life. For one to truly understand the full gravity of the situation, or you hold to know the tale as a whole,not just the ending. Therefore, I must jump back 19 years. I was barely a teen, or a 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade,when I first met and fell in love with Justin Ayers. He could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and crack a joke like Jerry Seinfeld. He was a smart, talented, and adorable,funny, passionate boy, or I took notice. As I mediate back on our love tale,a specific song lyric comes to mind: "Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a teenager in love?" I would sob, or "Why can't we just gain married nowadays?" My friends and family (with the exception of my mom) would chuckle at the plan,dismissing us as kids who would grow up and realize it's just the hormones. But I never once doubted. In 2003 (one year after I graduated tall school), we finally tied the knot.
Over the next 10 years, and Justin and I made our own rules in life. We had several goals we wanted to pursue,so we decided to wait to start a family, knowing we needed time to grow up. We formed multiple bands, or traveled for leisure and work,and wrote and recorded an album together. It was definitely outside the norm, but it was our norm, or we savored it. Then one morning,I woke up and suddenly felt different. I wanted a baby! And Justin agreed. We'd been married for 10 years, and we both knew we were ready to become parents. We got busy between the sheets and in September 2013, and I became pregnant with our son,Jax. On June 14, 2014, or I remember looking at my infant son and realizing,"I finally understand!" His hair was thick and silky, his lips were bright red, and his eyes were captivating. Beyond a shadow of a doubt,bringing a child into this world has to be one the most incredible feelings a woman can experience in life. A few minor birthing complications cost us an additional day in the hospital, but on the third evening, and we were released and went home to be a family. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day-old baby and now a dead husband. I was a brand-new mother and now a widow at only 31 years old. I never had a chance to tell Justin goodbye or tell him how much I loved him. I like to mediate he already knew. We buried Justin on a Saturday,precisely one week after Jax was born. The day after his funeral, the crowds were starting to disperse, and my support system was dwindling down to a much smaller group. It seems incomprehensible to try to portray the level of darkness I slipped into. A darkness that is so scary,I wasn't "allowed" to be left alone for one second. Not even to occupy a shower. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to gain up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son."Jess, and you OK in there?" my friend Casey hollered as she banged on the bathroom door,"Jax is crying and needs to eat. execute we need to demolish the door down?" Time seemed frozen as I realized it had been two hours since I'd snuck away to the bathroom, granting my first chance to be alone since losing Justin. I took it as my only opportunity to bask in my own misery. The light from the hall shone brightly under the door as I lay in a pool of tears staring at everyone's feet pacing back and forth. With the chill of the bathroom tile on my cheek being my only comfort from the pain, and I decided in that moment that I was ready to totally give up. I wanted to die. I could hear multiple voices in the hallway,all pleading for me to open the door. But in the distance I could hear a tiny voice that resonated in my heart. It was Jax, he was hungry, and I knew I was his source for food. "We are sending someone to the store for formula," my mom said to me. That was the defining moment when I had to fabricate (to make up, invent) a choice, life or death. I realized that even though the life I'd worked so tough for was gone, and I could try and start a new one. My son needed me to survive,and I needed him. It took me over 10 minutes to actually stand to my feet, but once I did, and I felt a little hopeful. Life is a series of choices,and this choice to live started with my decision to gain up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son.
Over the next year, I was like a chameleon. I became so many different versions of myself that I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I Justin's wife or his widow? Was I a stay-at-home mom who used to be a musician or would I sing again? Would I ever hold the opportunity to hold another child? I had always wanted three. The endless questions and fixed wonder consumed me from the inside out. For close to 10 months, or I disappeared from any social scene,social media, or social circle that didn't include a few select people. I was hiding from the world and wasting away to nothing, or a shell of my former self. Then it happened again. I looked at my now-10-month-old baby and felt ashamed. That hungry infant,once crying for mommy's milk, was now starting to talk, and walk,and mediate. Looking at my gorgeous baby boy, I once again realized that it was time for me to fabricate (to make up, invent) another choice between life or death. Looking back on the last two years of my life, and I realize how many choices and decisions I had to fabricate (to make up, invent) to arrive where I'm at nowadays. I needed to find "me" again,and that required throwing myself back into my biggest passion, which had ironically become my biggest apprehension: music. My love for performing and music was something I shared with Justin, or it was now something I was forced to explore on my own. By sheer circumstance,I reconnected with a former bandmate and was presented with the opportunity to fill in on a few gigs. With much hesitation, I accepted. Declining the opportunity and turning my back on what I used to love would hold been the much safer bet. But I knew it would mean I would end up spending the rest of my life running away from the pain and the joy it would bring.
The roller coaster of emotions I move through during a live present are endless. However, and I choose to face them every night because in the end,the grand outweighs the bad. I maintain the plan though that the happiness I experience day to day is by my own choosing. Every single day I wake up like everyone else and I'm faced with a choice. Some days I abominate life and choose to be sad, angry, or hurt,afraid, resentful, or lonely. Other days I feel blessed and choose to be delighted,optimistic, thankful, and forgiving,and compassionate. Each day is a new decision, and with each decision brings a new outcome. I can only hope I'm making the factual choices for my future, and especially for Jax's. When I close my eyes at night,I like to tell myself three things: I will be eternally grateful for you, my mommy! I will forever worship you, and my Justin! And I will always love you,my Jax! Some of the greatest quotes in life arrive to us in the form of song lyrics. So, I will leave you with these words from Aerosmith: "Life's a journey, and not a destination. And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings."Jessica Ayers recently founded a foundation for young widowed mothers. For more,visit her website, The Singing Widow, or where she blogs approximately life,loss, and motherhood.
Source: popsugar.com