My mind was too busy to rest. So, out of a restless night’s sleep, I rose from the bed and headed downstairs. I grabbed my journal and sat down on the big leather chair. The house was dark, cold and very very quiet. I opened the journal in front of me and just let the words flow. It was a release for my mind, my heart and my soul. I wrote words that could have been a poem or maybe a letter or even a note of things to come. I wrote in anticipation. I wrote in grief. We were in thin time and I could literally feel it. I was in a different space that I couldn’t even name. And so after I put those feelings down on paper, I laced up my running shoes and I ran.
Still dark, I ran by the light of the moon. I had never run this early in the morning before and it must have been the quietest run I have ever had. My footsteps followed the light from the street lamps. My eyes continued to be drawn to the moon. I ran circles around the neighborhood, feeling my heart beat ever so strongly. I felt the cold and the sweat colliding on my forehead. I felt alive. I was so aware.
That morning is a vivid memory. The following day, I would write all of it down, never wanting to forget how each moment went. When I woke that morning, I couldn’t have told you how it would all play out, but I knew it was happening. My job was to be present and give love. That is all I could do. And so, I did that. I won’t give you each detail of the day, but a year later, it still feels so close- I can almost reach out and touch it.
One year ago, November 2nd, we said goodbye to Dalina. She didn’t want to go, but she did- and she did it with such vulnerability, faith and strength. She walked a road that none of us wants to, but all will. I remember that holy place of goodbye and what a gift it was to be there. I will be forever grateful to her family for that.
One year ago, I started sharing my writing on a blog. And so I feel like I’ve shared many of these grief moments with you. It just felt right to mark this day with you all. Thank you all for sharing your stories of grief as well. I am as convinced as ever that we need to tell our stories because they bring life, healing and freedom for all.
There is no neat and tidy way to end this entry. Just that this day is here. Just that time is so faithful, it continues to march on and on. Just that our healing is so dependent on one another. This week, a good friend also experienced a grief anniversary. It would have been her brother’s 59th birthday. He has been gone for years but left way too soon. And on this day she sent me a text, just to recognize this day with me and to say that she missed him. She gave me this quote as words that were meaningful to her as she has walked the grief journey. I will leave you with them.
“The reality is you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same again. Nor should you be the same. Nor should you want to.”