Between April and May: Where I Still Live

Easter weekend used to feel like hope, celebration, renewal, and the promise of new life.

But now it feels different!

Good Friday especially has left a mark on me that I can’t ignore. It didn’t just pass through my life. It settled into my mind, my body, and my emotions!

IT MENTALLY SCARRED ME!

When people speak about Good Friday, they talk about sacrifice, about Jesus carrying the cross, about suffering that led to resurrection. And I understand that. I truly honor that. But now when I hear “Good Friday,” my mind doesn’t just go to scripture. It goes to UNEXPLAINABLE PAIN. The kind of pain that doesn’t leave you the same. More like SUFFERING in SILENCE. Replaying the “CRIME SCENE” in bed space 12.

It triggers something in me.

A heaviness. A tightness in my chest. Memories that don’t ask for permission before they show up in my thoughts. And I’ve had to come to terms with this truth. Grief has given me a form of PTSD. Not in a way that people always see but in the quiet ways.

In how certain days feel heavier than others. In how my mind replays moments I wish I could forget. In how my body remembers what my heart is still trying to process 10 months later!

Good Friday reminds me of suffering. But now it also reminds me of my own as a GRIEVING MOTHER.

And that’s hard to carry.

Because while the world prepares to celebrate Resurrection Sunday, I find myself sitting in the in between. Not where I was, but not yet where I’m going. I’m still stuck between Good Friday which fell on April 18, 2025 up until the day she left this earth on May 27, 2025.

Those days live in me.

Replay in me.

Changed me FOREVER.

And maybe that’s where I am in my grief journey.

Just in between.

But here’s what I’m learning, even in this tension.

Easter isn’t just about celebration. It’s about acknowledging the full story.

The suffering.

The sacrifice.

The silence.

And then the resurrection.

And maybe my story is still unfolding.

So as this Easter weekend approaches, I’m giving myself permission to feel it all! To honor what Good Friday has done to me mentally. To acknowledge the trauma without shame and sit in the in between without rushing my healing.

Because faith doesn’t mean I’m unaffected.

And healing doesn’t mean I forget.

It just means I keep going despite.