Autumn Toelle-Jackson - Boldly into the Darkness: Living with Loss, Growing with Grief & Holding onto Happiness

Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

If the big events in my life were placed on a timeline, that timeline would have a happily ordinary start, resembling the life of someone who grew up in the middle class. Id appear as someone who hadnt faced hardships or dealt with loss, barring that of an occasional pet and some of my grandparents. That changed later in my life. My first real hardship occurred when I was thirty years old and experienced miscarriages. And over the next few years, Id lose a husband, a close family member, and a child.

Its a pattern of love and loss, with the losses dominating. But a timeline doesnt explain life. When you know only the big events, its easy to think, How sad and horrible, so much loss, or, Wow, her life sucks. Except it doesnt. A timeline shows only the big events, not the life thats lived in between, the parts that connect happy and sad or smiles and tears. A timeline doesnt show the continued struggles, nor does it show the many smaller blessings. It doesnt show fear or hope. It doesnt show the story, and the story is what matters.

Between the covers of this book, youll find a story. Its not an exciting story full of fun and adventure. Its not a comedy filled with jokes and laughter. Theres no monster to fight; and despite traumatic events, its not a traumatic story. Instead, its a story overflowing with love and marked with loss. A story of rebirth and resilience, strength and hope, pain and darkness. Its a story of lifemy story. Its written how I remember it, often clouded by the shock of grief. Even with all the trauma and death, my life has been blessed.

It was often hard to see that blessedness, though. It was hard to see the good when my world was suddenly and repeatedly thrust into the darkness. I struggled to breathe and survive, even when I knew I wanted something more than the struggle, more than the grief Id carry with me. Through my story, I began to grasp at rays of light that would break through, small pieces of hope that let me rebuild myself into something strong enough to withstand the weight of this new life.

Over time, I learned that, with each new grief, Id shatter

and then find a way to survive, whether I wanted to or not. I learned that I had choices, and Ive chosen to do more than live. I learned that while the darkness brought sobs of anguish and never-ending tears, it also held healing and rebirth. I learned to live with my losses. I found ways to grow from the grief I carry. Most importantly, I learned to grab hope wherever I could find it and hold on tight, because sometimes the hope that things will get better was all I had. Those we lose are more than the loss. They are love, laughter, and happiness. That should be their legacy. Their death shouldnt define them. Our loved ones are more than that one point in time.

Yes, my life has sad and horrible parts, but it also has so many more wonderful parts. Yes, I lost, but I have loved and been loved. Ive chosen to do more than just survive. I chose to be more than a victim of my circumstances. Ive chosen to share my story, in this book and in my life, because I want others to see that its possible to live and grow with grief. Its possible to go boldly into the darkness and come out stronger and more beautiful, not in spite of being broken but because of being broken. More than that, I want to share hope. I want to give others that small piece of hope that others gave me when my world was at its darkest.

As horrible as life can be, we were made to survive it. I hope as you read my story, you can find your own strength to live your life as it was meant to be lived: with hope, laughter, and love.

Do you have a sanctuary? A place where you can go and feel safe? A place where, no matter what else is going on in the world, you feel at peace the moment you enter it? For Joe, my first husband, this was the ranch.

The ranch is located twenty miles east of Burns, Oregon. Joes grandparents had purchased the ranch and moved their family there when their children were young. While Joe didnt live at the ranch, it was in his blood. He took me to the ranch the first time I visited him in Burns.

The long driveway curved along the base of a hill, traveling into a canyon. Cow Creek meandered through the meadows on the other side, where the green grass waved in the wind. My first glimpse of the ranch was a cluster of old trees situated in the mouth of the canyon.