12 years of heaven - when life sets you to zero
My first son David would have turned 12 today.
He came too early, lived for just one breath - and left again straight away.
At the time, it felt as if life had set me back to zero.
Nothing that seemed important before still had meaning.
Suddenly everything was reduced to one question:
What really wears?
The lesson of a moment
I remember that moment after the birth: the emptiness, the silence, the incomprehensible.
And at the same time a clarity that I would not have expected.
A knowledge that I would no longer be the same.
Little things suddenly no longer upset me.
Superficial dramas lost their power.
If you lose what is most valuable, all that remains is to focus on the essentials.
Pain becomes resonance
Grief does not pass. It transforms.
What remains is love. An invisible bond that does not break - even if the person is not with us.
This tape has taught me to feel more finely.
Not to lose myself on the outside, but to find support on the inside.
To be more present - in encounters, in decisions, in life.
For me, that is resonance:
Listen to your inner self, listen to the other person, stay in touch - even if it hurts.
Balance as a life task
Since David's death, I know that balance is not a luxury.
It is the foundation that supports us when life shakes us.
For me, balance means being centered on the inside - even if everything fluctuates on the outside.
It gives us resilience because it always brings us back:
to ourselves, to clarity, to strength.
What remains
12 years of heaven.
David is missing - and he is there.
His short breath changed my life.
He taught me to breathe more deeply.
He reminded me not to dwell on the unimportant, but to live the essential.
And so his memory remains alive - and not just in mourning,
but as a source for what I am passing on today:
Resonance. Balance. Power from the essential.
