Thinking of you
I love nature. To me that is where my church is. I love the trees, the wild creatures and birds, flowers, plants, gardening. I remember when we were married, and you helped plow the 50-foot-long garden I wanted. It was hard work, but that garden gave us life while we lived there raising my kids and grandkids. We enjoyed juicy tomatoes, sweet watermelons, beans, and a multitude of other foods. I planted flowers on every side of the house along with what was already there when we moved in. We had beautiful flowers and color from early spring until late fall. We also loved the sunflowers that I planted on the side of the garden. They turned with the path of the sun every day. They were your favorite flower. Now every time I see a sunflower, I think of you.
Last year my dreams were filled with your presence. It felt like you were trying to communicate with me. I took the feelings you left with me and meditated over them. I took some of the dreams as a warning, as to what I wasn’t sure but felt the urgency in the dream to be careful in the coming future. In the end I felt reassured by your dream visits that maybe you were still watching over me. I cried. I remembered our life together, the times we went camping and as we traveled the fields of sunflowers we would come across as we shared our excitement to see their beauty. I celebrated your memory and the love we had by creating my interpretation of a sunflower. I cried some more. Then I let go just a little more.
Sounds simple, eh? Not so much. Letting go is an ongoing process and does not happen in a single moment. Making the choice to let go is the important part. Consciously making the decision to move out of the memories, but not forget, to move out of the sadness, but not regret the feelings it brings up, to move toward celebrating our love, rejoicing in our memories, and sharing our life that we shared together, yes, this is how I can let go, by celebrating and remembering.
By not allowing myself to become stuck in the sadness and not allowing the depression to take hold I honor myself, the journey of knowing you and the heartbreak of losing you. I realize you would not want me to stay in a dark place full of loss, tears and grief. I also realize to fully overcome the loss I must allow myself to feel those feelings that may be uncomfortable, to allow myself the tears that may be hard, to allow myself the space and time to work through whatever process I need that will help me move forward.
Progress, not perfection.
*this writing refers to my husband, Dave Rose, we divorced in 2012 but our love was one of the best things that happened to me. We lost him in 2015, ten days before my birthday. I always thought of it as his way of saying, “now you’ll always remember when I left.” His sense of humor. He is missed.
Please let me know how you work through your grief and I hope you will share your experiences and thoughts with me either in the comments below or send me an email.
All the best,