I’m still standing…

Spring has arrived, and the tulips and daffodils are sprouting and the earth is preparing for sunny, warmer days. My heart, iced, distant, removed, tries desperately to appreciate the signs. Grief has a way to block, abolish, remove any joy. I push myself to the surface, very much like a bulb. Forcing myself on the daily to produce, to perform, to show up. I am acutely aware, that every part of me wants to cave, to hide, to retreat. Grief is isolation and sadness. It is like a dark cloud, that looms, and it often grows if you focus on it too much. Sometimes, grief can be felt, but, off in the distance, just over the horizon. In other words, it may fade for a brief moment, but it is always there.
As this Easter weekend approaches, my anxiety heightens. I feel a mix of emotions and a sense of not knowing, not feeling, not belonging. I share in my grief group about my feelings. I don’t want nor feel any reason or need to celebrate. It feels strange, having or thinking about a holiday without my son. Our holidays center around the food and menu. That was one of his most favorite things, food. So, I hesitate in cooking and preparing dishes he liked most. I don’t see the purpose really. I also can’t bear sitting at a dinner table, just 3 of us, without him. It just feels wrong and I am torn about it this week. I had a dinner for my daughter and her boyfriend a few weeks ago. We had a lovely evening getting to know him. I especially felt a very loving connection between them and it did my heart good to feel that for her. I remember feeling sad throughout the night. I remember mentioning my son a few times during dinner. I have struggled over the last two years with holidays too. My brother dying, left a vast hole in our family. It left an empty place at his table, the house where we all gathered to celebrate holidays. Now, he was gone, what should I do? His wife, my heart hurt for her. I did not want to leave her alone. I made every effort to be with his wife and kids as I felt very bad for his children. Now, I am the grieving Mother, yet, no one seems to take much notice. His wife was invited to dinner somewhere else. I get it, almost everyone has avoided me like I have a disease. Thank God for my sister and for my daughter, they realize how wounded we all are. She suggests a walk on the beach, and catching the sunset. I wonder, what do I do with the 8 hours before the sun sets? Then I remembered the memorial tree.
We received a gift when my son died. A few co workers of Mike’s sent a memorial tree kit. It comes in a box. I briefly remember how touched I was by this gift. How thoughtful and meaningful we all thought it was beautiful. I tucked the box in the spare room, as it was the dead of the winter. I awoke this morning remembering the tree, and maybe it was time to be planted. I just have to find a place for it. I think for me, it is about honoring and remembering my son. Perhaps, this will be a way to do that. I will still be sad, and lost and missing Michael. I don’t expect to feel anything else. Nothing feels the same, because it simply isn’t anymore. I won’t be spoiling his baby with Easter baskets and dresses, at least, not yet. I will be thinking of her and her Dad, my son. I recently was reading how important it is to try really hard to start to live in a “moment”. It can be small, the sunlight, a new flower, a baby laughing, sweet sounds of nature, just try and take it in and allow yourself to enjoy it, even if it is only for a few moments…I can’t help but smile, afterall, this blog was created and based on “leelee moments”. I shall do my best to find one. I am certain, without a doubt, that my heart will be thinking and loving and missing him, and perhaps dreaming of him…

Love to all


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