Touchpoint: One Month

It’s impossible to believe it has been a year since my sweet mama passed into Spirit. I had no idea last December what to expect in the days, months, and longest year that followed, and I’m not sure I have any greater sense of things now. I tried to write, both during her illness and in the months that followed because I wanted to be able to see what the world looked like then, and remember our journey to now. I think that was a good way to keep track of emotions and memories. I have learned a few things from my experiences over this past year, maybe none of them profound, but things that have stuck with me that seem worthy of sharing.

1. Whatever you are feeling, it’s okay, and it’s caused by grief. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out if what I felt was “normal.” Eventually, I realized emotions and reactions are all over the place, some days are good, some aren’t, you laugh, you cry, you scream, and EVERY SINGLE EMOTION is entirely normal. Whatever you feel on any given day at any given moment is right for you, and don’t let anybody else tell you differently. Feel it all! It’s normal, and it’s okay to feel it.
2. We are terrible as a society at grieving. We dance around the hardest days and emotions without diving in. People mean well when they tell you to “cheer up” and “think about the happy times” but those well-intended words can’t begin to touch the Mom-shaped hole in my soul. I’ve learned there really are no words that help someone who is grieving deeply, so I offer my love, a prayer for peace and strength in the long days ahead, or usually just the biggest hug. Hearts and tears can connect when words cannot.
3. At every stage of the grief journey, conserve your energy. Don’t feel badly about pulling back on things, and it’s okay to care a little less about things in your household, your job, or the world. You need to focus on yourself, putting one foot in front of the other, remembering to eat, sleep, and hydrate. The world feels entirely different with my mom gone, and it has taken me a lot of time to slow down and understand exactly what has changed. I still need all my energy to process these new surroundings. Conserve your energy for what matters deeply to you.
4. Your circle is going to get a lot smaller, and that is okay. I felt a lot of guilt about saying no to socializing or events, but I just couldn’t find the energy to be around people. I remain fairly withdrawn from the social world, but I have a core group of friends who get me right where I am, no matter what that looks like. Those people lift me in constructive ways and make me stronger in such important aspects of my life. I will return to the social world gradually, but for now, I am incredibly grateful for my little posse of The Best People. A small circle of people who make you a better person is a great place to hurt and heal.
5. There is no wrong way to stay connected to memories and emotions. I like to go into Mom’s kitchen with her recipes and use her pans and kitchen utensils, listen to her music, and talk to her while I prepare a meal, or go to yoga and talk to her from my mat. My sister likes to be surrounded by her things all day long and invite her into her dreams. My dad likes to look at her pictures every day and talk about our happiest memories. Whatever works is what you should do. Find your own way of connecting and embrace it fully.
6. I cannot overstate the importance of having the best Best Friend. Mine is the most remarkable human, and I would be lost without her daily even though she lives across the country. There was a point when I was continually breaking down, and she said, “come be with me,” and I just up and went. She pampered me, loved me, and immersed me in her world, but she had been reading books about grief because she wanted to understand better…and we had the most beautiful conversations because she cared enough to be present and try to help. She always listens, always shares her heart, and always loves me even on my worst days. I don’t deserve her…but she saves me on the daily. She has taught me how to be a better friend, especially in such emotional times. If you have that person in your world, treasure them.
7. Whenever possible, schedule your bad days. I knew Mother’s Day would be rough, I knew her birthday would gut me…so I scheduled time alone. Cleared my calendar, put on all her music, burned her incense, and surrounded myself in all things Mom. And I let myself feel it all. I sobbed, I screamed, I laughed, I slept…all of it surrounded by the essence of her. I had nowhere to be and no one who urgently needed me. I just let the feelings flow, and it was very helpful to feeling a tiny bit of control over my deepest emotions. Sometimes the grief hits out of nowhere and you have to respond on the fly, but when you know it’s an important day and feelings will be raw…schedule yourself to fully feel it.
8. Nothing really prepares you for the despair of losing someone you love deeply. And just as that settles into your gut, the loneliness comes along too. I had no idea how isolating grief was! We all grieve. It’s a universal emotion, but it’s also so private and personal. You have no choice but to do the hardest days and moments alone. Writing has helped me. My dog has helped me. Being outdoors with my thoughts has helped me. Just know that the extreme feeling of isolation is part of the grief buffet…and maybe everyone should have a great pet or two.
9. I will never be the same person I was before I lost my mom, and that is also okay. The love ran really deep, so the hurt also runs deep. She was integral to every aspect of my existence and our family’s interactions for my entire life. I’m learning to live with that Mom-shaped hole in my soul and accept that life, love, and happiness look different to me now. It’s okay to feel permanently changed. It isn’t so much about healing and getting back to who I was before losing her. It’s more about finding a way forward that holds her tightly in my heart and lets me keep living.
10. My days felt very dark and ugly as we started the walk of grief. I found that giving myself small moments of beauty and peace helped me through those days. For me that meant surrounding myself with J. White paintings, reading Mary Oliver’s poetry, cooking my daughters’ favorite foods for family dinners, enjoying fancy coffee drinks, snuggling with my grandson, going to the gym, taking a yoga class…just making sure that I had one really good thing in every day to keep me centered and moving forward. It was a necessary form of self-care…learning to love and care for myself in new ways.

At the beginning of this journey last year when we had no idea how difficult things were going to be, Mom whispered to me, “Love will get us through.” One year on from her passing, that’s something I still think about every day. I look for the love all around me, and I try to create it in places where we need a little more. I try to remember that we were created from love, and we are supposed to share it abundantly in this world. I hold on to the belief that deep grief is part of loving someone with your whole heart. I cherish what it felt like to be loved by my sweet mama, and what a gift it was to love her from my first breath to her last one.

In the beginning, the end, and everything in between, it’s the only thing that matters. Love will get us through, Mom.