For my sisters, it begins in November and the anniversary of their father’s death and doesn’t let loose until after January. For me — it is Epiphany — when my mother left this life. For my BFF — Halloween — the day her brother passed away. For My Best Friend — Thanksgiving time marks the passage of the love of his life.
Everyone has one.
The time of year that gives us pause. The time of year that takes us back to the ball of grief which lives inside our heart. The time of year that reminds us of our loss.
For years — the searing pain of my mother’s death held me captive. I know I lived — survived — somehow. I know there were people in My Life holding me together, but I don’t recall how I made it through those days. I only know I did.
Then one day, I had children of my own. And suddenly all the memories of my mother became a healing salve as I remembered how to mother. I heard her voice in my head and I leaned into my memories of my childhood to find the joy to share all the good stuff with my own kids. I let Love in. Love for my kids and Love for my mother. Forward and backward wash over me in my Now.
And I healed.
It wasn’t as if I didn’t miss her physical presence, I did. I do. But I began to let her essence back into My Life. As I did that — The Season of Death lost its grip on…
