I thought I was kind of immune to it.
It didn’t seem like a big deal to me to miss Thanksgiving. Sure, I knew I’d miss being with my family, but figured I’d talk with them to get my family-fix. I didn’t have any energy (see my earlier post) to make a feast for folks here, so was just going to slide through today as a regular Thursday.
But then… my >splat< from yesterday flowed over to today. I let myself rest and be and hang at home all day and in the resting, I had a good cry.
I remembered last year’s Thanksgiving at my sister’s house. I had just recently moved from CO to NY to be close to family and that was our first Thanksgiving since our mom had died.
And that memory cracked me open more.
A well intentioned friend insinuated a month or so ago that there wouldn’t be grief if I knew my mom was still with me… if I could communicate with her.
Well, that’s not true for me.
There is grief. Grief just is. Without story. Without significance.
It’s one of the most beautiful, strangest, wildest energies.
It’s a river to surrender to or wrestle with.
I had tears today. And before, during and after… I felt my mom with me.
I felt her presence. I saw her in my mind as the woman I knew her to be yet know she’s no longer in pain like she once was.
The tears just come spontaneously when I’m open and allowing. There’s not any angst or wishing something was other than what is. There’s just acknowledgment: she won’t be sitting at the table with my family this year; and there’s release: tears; and there’s receiving her now as we’re able to commune beyond words.
So with my heart open and cheeks wet with tears, I want to let you know if this is your first Thanksgiving since a loved one passed, or the second (like it is mine) or the fifth or tenth or whatever it is… and your heart is feeling tender, too… it’s ok. You’re not alone. You don’t need to hide it. It’s ok.
Grief is a gift we give to ourselves and others. It’s an expression of thanks, and isn’t that what today is all about?
Wishing you a beautiful, nourishing Thanksgiving.