Grief is weird.
It’s weird and complicated…
Layered, non-linear, and ever-evolving.
A few days ago marked the 20th anniversary of my mom’s journey from this world into the next and so her memory has been rapping on the pulse of my heart a little louder than usual for the past several days.
I never know what to expect around the Big Dates on the calendar (birth, death, Mother’s Day…) because no year has been the same, though similar threads have pulled over the years.
This anniversary felt so different than all the others, though, starting with dreams about the importance of oral history and keeping her memory alive before morphing into deep, almost numbing grief that required me to move my body in an effort to transmute the foggy ache into my chest into an organized creative space in which I can dive deeper into some heart-work in the days and months ahead.
She was only 53 when she died, so I know all too well that “old age” is a gift not given to everyone but this anniversary offered up some serious reflection on the day before her passing about how everything can change from one moment, one day, to the next.
On the 6th she was here. On the 7th she was gone.
We just never know when this lifetime of ours will come to an end, do we?
Life, too, is weird and complicated…
It’s layered, non-linear, and ever-evolving.
It’s filled with so many unknowns and so many things we have no control over…
And, luckily, it’s filled with a wealth of opportunities to intentionally choose how we approach each day/interaction/moment’/idea/inspiration, etc.
And so I’ve intentionally spent some time over the past few days organizing, drinking copious amounts of tea, enjoying the warmth of the February sun, focusing in on small moments of joy, and looking through photos of my Mama…
The woman who taught me that Love is Love well before it was a hashtag…
The woman who was raised in the city but had the greenest thumb & greatest love of & for nature…
The woman who adored music & dancing…
The woman with a deep curiosity for all things & a massively tender heart.
I won’t pretend to know what happens to us after we leave this earth (I’m still figuring that part out) but I sometimes like to imagine that she’s dancing among the stars with her beloved sister (Kim is in the dress below, my Mama in her ballet leotard), filled with magic and healing, until her next go-round.
And so it shall be.
Onward,
Melissa
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I can relate to so many if the things you write about here. I was 12 when I lost my mom, and I think the hardest time of the year is around the day she passed, (a week after I started 7th grade.) Treasure the beautiful memories.
I am so sorry to hear of your mom’s passing while you were still so young. The grief over the loss of a mom is such a complicated tapestry. I hope you know to take good care of yourself when you feel the waves building around you <3
This is a wonderful tribute to her and the woman she was and the woman she raised. Take care.
Thank you for your kind words, Hena <3
A lovely tribute to your mum. At 71 I wonder how long I have left and if there is an afterlife.
Thank you!
Such big questions, aren’t they? Part of me wants all the answers but a bigger part of me believes that one of the purposes to life is to ask all the questions and learn how to be OK without all the answers.
I hope you’re enjoying every possible moment while you’re still here with us! Who knows, you may have another 30 years in you!
Aw, that is wonderful that you have so many photos of her to look through when the grief hits extra hard. I love that photo of her and her sister dancing together!
Thank you, Joanna! Luckily, my grandparents were part of the arts community in NYC in the 1950s and 60s so they had lots of friends to photograph some cool moments <3
She brought so much happiness into the world. I feel happier just seeing her delight in dancing and being outside.
Thank you, Deb. She was truly a bright shining light 🙂
I read this post with tears in my eyes. Such a beautiful tribute to your mother, who died far too young. (My father was 54 when he died, so I have had a similar experience.) I loved looking at the photos of your mother. Her bright spirit shines through each one.
Thank you for your kind words, Laurie. I’m so sorry to hear of your father’s young death, truly too young. The gift here is that we get to carry them forward in every step we take <3
Wonderful tribute. Thanks for sharing a bit of your mom with us. We were at the 20-year-mark since my mother’s death last July. I agree that the reactions aren’t predictable. For a few years, I had unexplained down moods in July, until I realized that my brain forgot the date, but my body remembered!
Oh how the body remembers! The depths at which our grief is carried within us is truly remarkable! I am so sorry for your loss but trust you carry her close in truly beautiful ways.
What a beautiful tribute, Melissa! I’m sorry you are hurting. I lost my mom when I was 32 and my dad at 47. I believe we will reunite and that they are only a thought away.. ((HUGS))
So true, Kathleen. The veil can be remarkably thin at times 🙂 I’m sorry to hear of both of your losses but am so glad to know you know they are never far away.
These are such beautiful pictures (both the actual and the written ones) of your Mother. This got me thinking a lot about moms. In many ways who they are and how they interact with us and the world becomes a foundational piece of who we become: as their children, as our own selves, and as future parents/aunties/mentors. So much of their work, loving us into being, is done in the uncelebrated moments of life. It’s a special thing that we get to celebrate that love, even when it is difficult, confusing and painful.
Thanks for sharing this moment, and all its complexity with us. Sending lots of warmth your way through your grief, and as you embark on your heart-work!
Thank you, Jessica, for your kind words and for sharing your thoughts. I’m so glad to have opened up a moment of reflection for you.
What you’ve said here, “So much of their work, loving us into being, is done in the uncelebrated moments of life. It’s a special thing that we get to celebrate that love, even when it is difficult, confusing and painful.” is so deeply profound and true. Thank you.