This Time of Year

I still wonder if the intensity of grief is all about the holidays or if it has mainly to do with the last days and weeks that Allison was home with us. The days mesh, and it is almost difficult to determine how and why the grief can come raging as it does, how the loss can bring tears in the night, how the body releases whether you want it to or not, and how it attacks when you least expect it. I see Allison in the faces of shoppers and in the items in the store. My knees go weak when I pass a Victoria Secret, thinking I need to duck in and get that pair of "pink" sweatpants. My insides scream when I walk through Kohl's and notice all the hooded jackets that she should have for cold Chicago weather. And seeing all the young woman in their beige boots, with tattered jeans and headbands, well, they could never know how my throat closes and I want to run out of the store. Last year I couldn't step into a mall for holiday shopping, this year I have made several stops. The gift of retirement is that I can go at odd hours, when there are very few folks indeed. So, I do just that, and I can go on my own terms. I set out with a specific plan, but on many attempts have just left the mall suddenly, with plans to set out another time. I am blessed to be my own barometer of what I can and cannot do...but still, she is everywhere, and that can be wonderful. It can also take me to the depths of despair and realization and can be that step closer to acceptance, accepting that she is never coming through the door, her smile will not light up my life, ever again, at least not in the same way. As I share with others, I never knew you could go from almost near euphoria to despair, and all emotions in between, in a matter of seconds. I never knew a lot of things until this path became my course of life.

There are times I feel as though I am the only one struggling with a loss because it can become all consuming. In the confines of my mind, I know that is not true...however, it just seems that way. That is unless I work at realizing and understanding there is a world outside of me, outside of my family, outside of my home. It is almost like a full-time job just to remove myself from my own deep sadness and know and listen about others and what they face. I have always said that everyone has a story and they do, and more and more, those stories are revealed to me. Perhaps they are revealed so I can, once again, be reminded that in this devastation, so much beauty and good has come from it, that we have a daughter who left us a brilliant legacy to carry on and live for her. I am convinced that she would not want those she left behind to carry the burdens so deeply that we cannot move or function. Her life and spirit in itself is enough to help us get up each day and smile and listen and care. And while it may be "easy" for me to say, I know that there is a solution to every problem and that we can find our way through whatever loss we face. That may not sound palatable to those who are losing their homes, their financial security, their marriages, their lives to whatever cause. I guess if God had given me a choice of what or who to lose, I would have taken other options over my child. But the choice was not ours to make, just like those who are losing part of themselves every day. What we did get to do was make a choice on how to respond and heal and find our way through the fog. That brings to mind a book that was instrumental in helping me find my way, and believe me, I am still working on that, but the book title, "Surviving The Losses of Your Life", by H. Norman Wright, talks about all the losses we face, ones we recognize and ones we don't. He lends varying types of assistance and while he bases much of it on scripture, he truly gives insight to the fact that we are all "losing" something or someone every day. In these times where loss is prevailing and we all can't answer the phone without hearing one more bit of bad news about someone we care about or love, it is reassuring to know that we will make it, somehow, but surely only by the grace of God. I love it that I can surrender all my burdens and pain and sorrow and heartache to Him, and that He takes it all, and promises hope when we choose to believe. Yes, I read every book I can that will help, I find my daily devotionals and affirmations help me breathe through the moment and get to the next one, and I truly understand that today is all we are promised. It can look as bleak as the weather so far this winter, but in the next minute, the streams of light filter through, and I know God is helping hold me up, for these times, these "last" days that bring memories that I would rather just put on hold, these times will pass and brighter moments will come, laughter will fill the house and hope is the promise, for as long as we have life, there is hope and there is a solution. This day, I long to just hold the hand of my beloved Allison, to sit by her bed and bring her favorite breakfast, and I thank God I savored the moments I did have, and as intensely painful as they are, I thank Him for the sweet memories.