Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Note to Self

Dear Body,
You can stop carrying the weight of it around every day. 384 days. I am only a little stronger for it. We are slowed by it and crouched under it and slighted by it. We are carrying grief with us everywhere, Body, but we just don't need to anymore. Today is the day. The first yahrzeit. The first anniversary. And we can release it like a balloon! Okay, no, it will never float away. It will follow us like a shadow. Sometimes growing long and light and barely there; and others it will be heavy and underfoot. But we can let it walk beside us, Body, instead of carrying it. Let grief do some of the walking now.


The first year after a loss is marked in (what feels like) many ways. The headstone unveiling can happen after 11 months. There's the secular calendar anniversary. And of course the Lunar calendar. The unveiling happened closer to 11 months, and this is a leap year on the lunar calendar, so we have been remembering for almost 2 months. The first is different. There will never be another first for Mom. Today it is marked. The novelty of grief is welcome to fade any time and this can become ritual.

Maybe now I can write about more than "just" my mom. I won't apologize for not wanting to write about anything else - it helps with the weight of the grief. But I hope for myself that I can talk about other things that aren't weighty for me. Like motherhood. Or my make-up routine. Or trying to be a good mom while putting on makeup. You know. The usual.

I feel heavy when I come here. I remember how my mom encouraged me to write and spoke so highly of my writing (something that I have never felt confident or comfortable with). So now, when I try to think of something to write (any topic - any weight), I find myself wondering what she would think of it. And that weighs down the entire process.

Anyways. Any day now. I will wake up lighter. And the grief will learn to walk.