Category: Getting Older

Winter is a Season to Cherish

Winter is a season to cherish, especially in the winter of your life.

This view from my desk was on January 11, 2025. I was still recovering from the flu and had no intention of dealing with the snow on my front steps. However, the stillness and purity of the white blanket across this scene gave me a sense of calmness that carried over into one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.

We had warmer temperatures over the next few days, and the icy mess from this snow melted. I felt better each day and eventually dealt with the last remnants before the next snow arrived late last Sunday.

Snow Removal Joy

Then, the temperatures plummeted as the evening progressed. By Monday, the morning low was 13 F, and the high was 24 F. I prepared to remove the 2 inches of snow as soon as I awoke. This airy and light snow made a standard broom my best snow removal tool.

layering keeps me warmHere’s the layering I used over leggings and a cotton turtleneck during my outdoor winter chores.

My fingertips got a bit cold, but the rest of my body was fine as I swept off the front steps and a portion of the back deck. The blue gloves are the most unusual items in this assortment of banishers for winter’s cold. Here’s how they came into my life.

When I worked for the Denver Department of Environmental Health, I watered the plants of one of the scientists, Cindy B., while she was on vacation. She gave those gloves to me in thanks. They are called Foxgloves, and the tag said they were for gardening. That seemed ill-advised, and I never used them in the garden. However, I realized they were perfect as an added layer of insulation inside gloves when I shoveled snow off the sidewalks in front of my Littleton, CO, home before walking to the bus that took me to downtown Denver.

I think of Cindy with a smile every time I pull the Foxgloves over my hands, realizing winter is a season to cherish.

The Seasons of My Life

I am still excited to clear snow off surfaces like my front steps and back deck. In the spring of my life, as a child in Central Florida, I dreamed of experiencing the change of the seasons. I was in my mid-20s when I first saw snow on a skiing trip to Killington, VT.

I spent my summer years in Florida, which always seemed to be summer. We did have a break from the heat with annual visits to Downeast Maine. During my autumn years, I first experienced all the nuances of seasonal change when I lived and worked in Colorado.

Shortly after my retirement, I moved back to Florida for five years before the mountains lured me northward again.

Now, I embrace each day in the winter of my life, enjoying the goldfinches and juncos that visit my native meadows for winter seeds. Various birds find sustenance in the seed, fruit, and suet at the feeders, and a bird bath is warmed to keep the ice away.

As the winter’s hold loosens, Spring plants will begin to emerge. Although I love my native plant gardens, I also love spring bulbs. In my garden, there is room for plants that originated in different places, just as there is room in my life for people who chose to stay where they were born or who left to experience new places to live and thrive.

Nature Heals and Enriches

My need to be one with nature has brought me spiritual healing from grief, physical well-being, and joy as I delight in all the plants, animals, and people God has brought into my life.

I look forward to my next phase of life enriched with clarity, deeper truth, and purity as I release what feels heavy in my soul to embrace the wisdom and light of this sacred season of life.

Looking Back Has Merit – My Sixties

Talking about my birthday is not something I normally do, but this year, it has a purpose I couldn’t ignore.

A New Decade Birthday

Some people celebrate their birthday with a cake. I celebrate with fresh flowers that I buy and arrange. It’s like a double gift to myself. This quilt has many layers of meaning, but most importantly, almost all the material was in my fabric stash. I donated it to Mom’s friend, Lola, who made tied quilts for St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Monte Vista, Colorado. Lola then pieced it into my favorite design, Log Cabin. Mom bought it for her guest bedroom, but now it is mine.

Looking back over ten years

As I lay awake at the end of the day before my 70th birthday, I naturally played the timeline of my 60s in my mind. It was both scary and hopeful.

Ten years ago, I considered signing up for psychic medium Kim Moore’s ten-month course “Psychic and Personal Development.” The only way I could consider it was to drop the first word, psychic. On the last day, I sent her an email asking to be her student. The nine women met every third Saturday. The classes were mostly at her business on South Wadsworth in Denver, Colorado. But we also gathered for a couple of excursions.

As I grew in understanding an alternative way of looking at life, my husband, Pablo, was sinking deeper and deeper into despair, which resulted in his suicide. Kim and my fellow students came to my home eight days later, and we cleared the energy together.

Perhaps I thought that would solve everything. So, I put it all behind me and sought a replacement relationship. Yes, I really did.

Please avoid my mistakes

My life before I turned 60 was filled with pleasing others and looking for someone to complete my life. At the time of Pablo’s suicide nine years ago, I had no idea how to grieve because I didn’t know who I was. It took almost nine years and the deaths of three more loved ones for me to start to discover answers.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned along the way.

Rule 1 – It’s important to make time to grieve.

What does it mean to make time to grieve? When I finally allowed the emotions of grief to emerge fully, I took time after starting my day to revisit the feelings I had immediately after my losses. Before this, I was afraid to delve deep. It helped when I prayed for the strength to let go of control and the courage to start the process.

Each time, my deep crying was short-lived, perhaps a minute. But the relief and calmness afterward have never left me.

Since I was alone, there was no choice but to go through this alone. You may find that too scary. If you choose to have someone with you, let them know you want them there for moral support but to keep their distance unless you motion them to come to you. Alternatively, you may seek a therapist who specializes in grief or a grief coach.

Follow the path that feels right for you.

Rule 2 – Grief is a normal reaction to loss

Your friends might not know how to comfort you. This is also very common. If you want to be completely alone, that’s okay. If you have someone to run interference, that is ideal; a pastor or best friend comes to mind.

Final Thoughts

Give yourself time to work through all your feelings. But also permit yourself to find joy in beautiful memories, the kiss of a loving pet, or random acts of kindness that come your way. It’s okay to allow unexpected moments of joy to embrace you.

Today Marks One Year

Today marks one year since my mother’s soul passed over. But, as one life ends, another begins. Her birth allowed her grandmother to see how a new life overshadowed her son’s death. And now, after one year, I feel my life begin anew.

Does one year seem a long time to feel the wounds of grief heal? Or perhaps it has been a time of healing other wounds too.

What is the Right Way to Grieve?

I’ve got some good news for you. First, there isn’t one right way to grieve. Each person moves through grief differently. And that will change each time you experience it. After all, death marks the end of physical life, but you shared so many memorable moments before.

Second, no one can judge your grief experience. It belongs to you.

However, there has been much research about the grieving process, which may help you understand your feelings.

I can best illustrate some of this process by sharing my experience with complicated grief.

Complicated Grief

Complicated grief occurs when you can’t resume normal activities because your grief keeps getting in the way. As expected, this aspect of grief is multi-faceted. For me, the most obvious was my delayed grief.

Delayed Grief

Delayed grief occurred when I had excessive reactions years after my father died.

Dad loved visiting Bok Tower Gardens in Lake Wales, Florida. He started making knives late in life using blacksmithing techniques, including pattern welding. He admired the beauty of Samuel Yellin‘s ironwork on the gates and bridges that connect to the tower’s location. This photo was taken during one of my parents’ winter visits to Florida in the 1980s, after they had moved to Saguache County, Colorado.

Bok Tower Brass Door
The brass door polishing is partly completed.

I also loved Bok Tower and was a volunteer Garden Guide in the years before COVID. We ended each garden tour at the tower, pointing out Edward Bok’s gravesite with the white flowers and explaining the meaning of the bronze door. On one of these tours, I was suddenly overcome with uncontrolled sobbing. It occurred just as I turned away from my group of twenty tourists to talk about the door.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped the tears away, turned around, and quickly finished the tour. A few people stayed behind to offer their loving understanding. Somehow, I kept from completely breaking down. It was the winter of 2018.

I had lost my grandparents, divorced my first husband, experienced being a suicide survivor of my second marriage, and comforted my father as he died an unaided death at home. All these losses spanned forty-five years, but they had started coming closer together with my husband’s suicide in September 2014 and Dad’s death in April 2015.

Grief doesn’t have to be as dramatic or cumulative as mine to suffer deep wounds. However, when it interferes with normal activity, it’s a sign to seek help, which I have often done.

But What is Normal Activity?

I’d also like to share that my perception of ‘normal activity’ had become skewed.

Did I experience ‘normal activity’ before my 23-year marriage ended in divorce? Then I lived in a world that revolved around my husband’s wants and the demands of mothering two sons. I had no concept of my own dreams. Was that normal?

The truth is that my life doesn’t feel like it was ever normal. What a relief!

So today marks one year. And as I continue healing my grief wounds, I can create a normal life that is mine. The possibilities are endless. Your options to create the life you want are endless too.

With love and compassion,
Dawn