Grieving Shapes

I lost my Mom in January this year.  She was 2 months shy of 102.

Along the way, I've shared how my grieving took shape, took place... 

and how it continues!

While it remains true that the littlest moments on the most uneventful days bring sprinkles of memories, loving and challenging, hard and soft, huge and miniscule, I'm never quite prepared.

Heading into the holiday season,

I am, of course, pushing fast forward and replay on an almost daily basis.

Mom and Dad spent most of their last Thanksgivings with my sons, my husband, varied guests, the dogs, and me.

Last Thanksgiving, Mom's last, she was joyful and giddy (not entirely due to the champagne and wine) and engaging with my sister-in-law.  They had a wonderfully mutual admiration society.

And here we are, nearly Thanksgiving again.  I'm spending it in Nashville at an airbnb where I will host our son and a few of his friends.  Andrew always made it home to be with Grandma.  Jack and Cathryn always made a space in their day to zoom with us to be with Grandma, although Zooming was a bit awkward and confusing for her!

The memory and the prospect of our first Thanksgiving without Mom AND Dad rises up periodically and brings a soft tear to my eye and a catch in my throat.

A couple of weeks ago, I wore her wedding and engagement rings.  I asked her for them because, to me, they represent how my Dad adored her and how they were the love story of the century;  The rings represent their love, their longevity, each other, separately, and together.

They don't fit me.  She was so tiny.  I am so not.

The photo at the bottom tells that story..

And reminds me to remind you to remember to rejoice in you; to allow your memories to be a blessing to you; to allow yourself to let grief in any form it takes be a source of reminding you that you are whole, that you are so beautiful in your human-ness, and in your human longings.

I invite you to set aside a moment or a breath to feel loving, loved, lovable.

Grief doesn't end, really.

It reshapes itself in myriad forms and likenesses.

We carry in our heart forever, the memories, the longings, the emotions (all of them, including what sometimes feels ugly)...

And the grief as it reshapes itself reshapes us.

And we sit.

And we mourn.

And we keep moving in love.

Blessings,

Paula.

p.s.  Photo of Mom and Dad was at their 70th wedding anniversary. They were married just over 74 when Dad passed in 2016.  Photo of Mom is at her 100th birthday celebration in 2022.