Spring in the Northland is always so anticipated and welcomed. This year is no exception. After months of one of the coldest and snowiest winters on record, Spring is slowly approaching with signs of renewal and rebirth. Longer, sunnier days are busting their way through the dark gloom of winter lifting the spirits of most everyone.
As the city grows happier and lighter, I can't help but feel a little darker and more sad in some ways. For me, this year, Spring means something a little different.
Its moving forward, yes, but with the biggest void that just seems to grow bigger with each passing day. As nature becomes born again, my mom's lifeless yard will be a constant reminder that she is gone. It will be a summer minus our much treasured evening walks at the park with the dogs....Minus our annual trip for Mother's Day flowers, this year instead being replaced with a scattering of her ashes.
The blanket of a snowy winter was like a band aid over the deep wound of my grief. Somehow covering the sadness, or at least giving me an excuse to hole up in the house. It is not unusual for me to be in my pajamas ready for bed by 6:00 PM (even earlier some days). As the band aid is slowly melting, the expectation to be out in the world is increased. The juxtaposition does not escape me that all of the life surrounding me is a reminder of death.
Its been 5 months today. Five months. Some days it feels like yesterday, and others feels like 10 years. My sadness ebbs and flows, sometimes just sneaking up on me without warning. The positive days are beginning to outweigh the negative now, and part of me is simply not ready to be done grieving. I want to miss her and to cry for her. And to remember her. I want to feel excited again. To feel hopeful again.
I'm confident I will get there.
In time.
