I grew up with a life that was pretty easy.  I had great supportive parents, we grew up with a lovely house and we had all the things we could ever want. We were healthy and happy and really quite blessed and privileged. I had a sense that life should always be this “perfect.”

Being ‘perfect’ became my bliss

When I had my first son, Ty, it was perfection again! He became the light of our life and the definition of my daily bliss. Like many mothers, he defined my bliss; from his smile, the pride I felt in showing him off and in just having fun as a family of three. We had a lovely home, I had a fabulous career, we got to take some amazing trips and my immaculate house was compared to Martha’s.

My life was blissful

Then, when the twins were born and one of them was diagnosed with a genetic syndrome, our “perfect” world caved in around us. We were devastated and scared. When Zack survived his initial open-heart surgery, we were once again hit with the realization that our “perfect” little world had now become one that was full of imperfections. Daily therapist appointments, frequent hospital stays and the daily challenges of our little brave son were often emotionally draining and physically exhausting.

We had lost our bliss

It took a while to become accustomed to our new “norm” and to the new imperfect life we were leading. Gone were the days of a perfect house, travel, date night and even ordinary family outings were often just too risky to Zack’s health. The first year was sad, isolating and difficult for our family and even our marriage. Over time, the special needs community embraced us, encouraging our amazing son and us. I started to reach out and they reached back.

We began to see Zack’s limitations as merely new goals to achieve. And boy, did he achieve them. We found hope again. Our life was now lived in the moments that made up our day. Our eyes were opened to the beauty and purity that was life with our sweet boy. Our hearts were full with pride as he would master a new ability and tears of joy streamed down our faces with the love we had for our son.

We had found new moments of bliss

Bliss came in ways I never knew possible. Bliss had nothing to do with being perfect. It had nothing to do with things going as planned or as you expected. In fact, bliss was now in the little surprises of our days. The moments when Zack picked up a cheese puff and place it to his lips after months of working on his food aversion. Or when our non-verbal son looked at me with his deep-brown eyes and showed me a love that I had never seen in my life. Bliss came in finding moments with our other two boys to just simply relax, let go and have a snowball fight, while Zack was safely inside with his nurse.

My definition of bliss had completely changed and my life was so much richer and more meaningful than it ever had been. I had learned that instead of trying to achieve perfection in my life, I needed to just stop to embrace the joy in the small moments that made up my days.

When Zack passed away earlier this year, my world again crashed around me and I wasn’t sure that I could ever survive this devastating loss. I had not only lost my beautiful, brave son, but also the source of my deepest joy.

I had lost my bliss again

While I still struggle every day with the immense pain from his death, I also force myself to remember what Zack taught me about finding joy in the small moments of my days. Whether it is fundraising in his name, volunteering at his brother’s school, or even once again having a date night with my husband, I am trying to find my bliss in the simple things that make up my life. This was his greatest lesson to me as a mother and as a woman, and his legacy to our entire family.

Heather Hamilton is a mom of three boys, including her son, Zack, who passed away at three years old on March 10, 2011. She blogs about family life and the journey since her son’s death at tjzmommy.blogspot.com. In honour of her sweet son, Heather and her husband Paul founded Zack’s Dream Room, a fund to renovate a room in the pediatric unit at York Central Hospital in Richmond Hill, Ont.

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