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Sunday, June 26, 2016

a month of grief

At one month, what does grief look like? This first year is a precious time, I remind myself. 

 Coming out  of  a storm. Waves are quieting down. There is still a major swell, but the waves aren't beating me up against the shore like they were. I've come up for air for many days now and able to look around again.  
Music seems more beautiful. I find myself turning up good songs a little louder in the car. The sun roof gets opened a bit more frequently. I don't mind if I’m wearing mismatched clothes. I"m doing my best and that is good. 

Be gentle with youself, my friend Claire encouraged right after my mom was diagnosed with cancer.  I took  this to mean be gentle with my expectations of myself, of others.

Sometimes I really don't want to be around people. At times a trip to Safeway can feel daunting. So Patrick will go instead.   

Recently I put on lipstick, lip liner. A skirt. And smile. I am starting to feel the beauty inside again. And its ok. I my feminine self   come alive once again. I know shes in there and its good to see her for a short bit.

Loss is hard. Life will never be truly the same, people remind me.  

Beautiful things seem more beautiful. The ocean  and beaches are even more breathtaking. Sad lyrics are even more heart wrenching. My heart has been broken.  

I find myself talking to my mom. 
Hi mom, I love you. 
 It brings me comfort. Nothing major. Just to let her know I’m thinking of her. 
My spirit lightens. 


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