Grief on the First Mother’s Day Afterward

Grief on the first Mother’s Day afterward surprised me. I ignored it, forgot it, and didn’t face the fact that my mother passed away last year. It’s an example of how I’ve used denial in my grief. Mother’s Day was never a time I looked forward to for myself. So, I always focused on Mom.

But she isn’t here now. The last time I saw her was almost a year ago.

But before that, on October 15, 2020, Mom and I ate at one of our favorite seafood restaurants, Crazy Fish, in Lake Wales, Florida. It’s such a noisy place. We were excited to sit outside in the coolness. Perhaps we laughed about one of her stories before I took our selfie above.

What Woke Me Up?

My sister posted a picture on social media of the last time she and my brother-in-law hugged Mom. I commented, “Today it hit me… the first Mother’s Day without Mom.

Rather Than Sit with My Emotion

Since I was on my laptop, I automatically checked my email and was startled to find an email inviting me to use newspapers.com to see if Mom ever made it to the paper. I became lost down the rabbit hole of looking up every closely related woman in the newspapers. It was a fantastic avoidance tactic.

But I also learned new things about my mother, grandmothers, and aunts. Also, I was reminded how different married life was for women a generation older than me.

To find newspaper articles about your mother’s generation successfully, search for “Mrs.” and their husband’s name. Only one person in my family used her name, my Aunt Lila Roads. And it was clear how she was different. Aunt Lila entered the business world, where she sought employment in administrative roles. Most of my other relatives were homemakers, and their mentions were on the social pages, which was a perfect place for women in the Deep South. So, since Aunt Lila and Uncle Mick moved to the more progressive state of California, she ended up in the newspaper.

What did I learn about Mom?

There were many articles about her engagement and wedding, but what intrigued me the most was an inquiry sent to The Tampa Tribune’s Food section’s “Recipes: Lost and Found.” She asked for a coconut cake recipe with coconut milk. And I found the responses!

This is interesting because my Mom’s sister, Carolyn, and I have discussed the long-standing hunt for their mother’s famous coconut cake recipe. Is this it? I think it has the basic ingredients, but my grandmother always used fresh coconut, often from West Palm Beach, Florida. After all, that’s where her mother lived, along with her older sister. There would have been a lot of love in those coconuts.

The hours I spent searching for newspaper articles never resulted in tears. It kept my mind busy and opened up new realizations. It helped me celebrate the memory of my mother rather than mourn the loss of her touch. Sometimes it’s nice to take a break from the tears. So, I’m happy about that.

What About the Grief?

My grief feels like it’s in my face, especially right now with the reminder of Mother’s Day. While writing, I’ve taken many crying breaks. Letting the feelings flow out feels good, leaving room for the joy of happy memories.

And one truth exists for anyone mourning a loss. Ignoring or avoiding the deep feelings of grief are impediments to healing. And I want to heal.

What are Some Ways for You to Heal?

Writing your feelings down is a great way to get your grief moving. Choose a place where you feel safe to cry or even scream if that is what you need. Your path toward healing is uniquely you. There are no right or wrong ways to express grief.

Walk outside. Grief can make us feel isolated, so getting up and moving helps to lift your mood.

Deep breathing is always welcome.

Here is one of my favorite deep breathing methods.

    • Take a deep breath in, filling your lungs.
    • Take one more sip of air at the top of your breath.
    • Exhale with a big sigh, “Aaaaaaaaa,” as you release all the air.

I always feel better when I do any of these activities.

Here’s wishing you a peaceful weekend.

Sending you loving kindness,
Dawn

Dealing with Profound Sorrow

When dealing with profound sorrow, we notice anniversaries of the day they left our lives. It’s not something we easily ignore. Nor should we. This week I marked the first anniversary of my husband Wayne’s death.

This is Not Easy

Every event in our lives has the potential to help us understand ourselves better. I’m taking small steps forward in my grief, gently buoyed by the stream of my tears. Today’s step is a review of what I’ve learned in the last year.

The biggest lesson I learned was the importance of listening to my intuition.

I believe intuition is how God answers you when you pray. We pray for help. We pray for change. We pray for courage. But sometimes, when we pray, we ask questions. We understand that the end of life is inevitable for all of us, but we still ask why.

Although I believe that our time on Earth is predetermined, our choices can affect the number of times we stumble and fall along the way.

Forks in the Road

How do we move forward when approaching a fork in the road? Do we go right, left, or blaze a new trail through the woods? Those are our choices to make.

When dealing with profound sorrow, it might be time to sit at that fork in the road for a while. Then, even turn around and lovingly look behind us at other life choices, choosing to soothe ourselves by wrapping our arms in a self-hug when we believe we took the wrong path.

But was it the wrong path? Or was it simply one of two choices that return to the same place you are today? There were times when if I had listened to my intuition, the path would have been smoother.

There’s another thing I’ve learned about grief. It doesn’t follow a prescribed trajectory. It doesn’t have the same peaks and low spots as the last life sorrow. It can be so different for each person and each experience. It seems the reason is self-evident since every experience changes you.

I have finally learned there is wisdom in looking back and examining your choices, not by self-deprecating, but in understanding yourself better. How can we change if we do not question our lives?

An Exercise

So I invite you to look back on a defining sorrow in your life

How do you do that? You take out some paper and a pencil or a pen and start writing about it. Here’s a question to help you get started.

What did I feel when I first heard the news of their passing?

Write about this as long as you want; cry, scream, punch some pillows. Get it out onto the paper, and let it go.

Remember that the soul of your loved one is free. They are not unhappy because emotions are something that we feel in our bodies, and they no longer have a body. But I believe their love and care for you is never-ending.

Thank them for their love.

Feel that love.

Take it One Step Further

And then remember something they loved to do. Choose a happy moment that you remember. Perhaps they loved to hold their dog, take a nap, or walk in the woods and marvel at the wonders of nature.

I was thinking about when Wayne and I were in La Garita, Colorado. Wayne had permission to fish in a pond stocked with trout. He came home with a beautiful catch and asked for a photo before I made trout almandine. Then, he extended his arms to make the fish appear even more prominent. I laughed then and again now at the memory. It was so Wayne.

Returning to the here and now, I raised my coffee mug and said, “This one is for what you taught me. This one is for you, Wayne. I love you. Thank you for being in my life.”

When I finished my toast, I saw a cute little snowbird looking down at me from the gutter outside the window. And I thought that was a sign that Wayne was laughing too. Why? For native Floridians like Wayne and me, winter visitors from the North are called Snowbirds. But, unfortunately, they were not Wayne’s favorite Florida reality.

I hope this article gave you solace and eased your experience dealing with profound sorrow.

I invite you to signup for my newsletter, so you don’t miss future blogs.

With love and compassion,
Dawn

You are a Beautiful Soul

Mom, you are a beautiful soul too. This was evident while planning her memorial service, especially as family and friends gathered to remember her.

You are a Beautiful Soul

Remember that you are a beautiful soul when you start feeling less than your perfection. Because when your life is done, it’s the memories of your beautiful soul that remains.

The First Decision

It was just me when Mom breathed her last. My husband passed three months and three days earlier. My sister had moved to be close to the birth of her first grandchild, and I had moved to a new life in North Carolina. That sounds as lonely as life can be, but there is a unique peace amid loneliness. It allows deep healing.

Waiting until the Saturday after Thanksgiving also gave me time to process the loss of my husband and mother. It helped make it a true celebration of her life. After that, the first decision of place was easy.

Texas, Alaska, and Florida cousins
Texas, Alaska, and Florida cousins

Mom grew up in Winter Haven, Florida. It was where she worshiped, and it was my birthplace. So many relatives were close, and those far away could get time off work. It seemed a perfect time.

Holiday Realities

My wedding was six years prior, also right after Thanksgiving. I conveniently forgot about the difficulties during the planning phase. It’s a time when businesses other than retail aren’t always available.

Catering became a hurdle in the week before Mom’s memorial. Suddenly, the restaurant closed for the holiday weekend. Scrambling over the phone with the church administrator, she found a last-minute substitute. Then the plan for dessert fell apart. A change from coconut custard pie to various cakes solved this latest snafu. Some of these calls were while I was at a gas station on my way to Florida the Thursday before Thanksgiving. Oddly, I wasn’t flustered by any of it.

Everything worked out beautifully. Some expected to attend but didn’t show, and a few new, treasured guests were able to make it.

Time Gave Me Space

Compared to my grief at my husband Wayne’s memorial, I felt almost blissful this time. Instead of hiding in the back room for grieving family, my sister and I welcomed guests in the church narthex. my son Larry and IHere’s a photo of my younger son, Larry, and me by the sign-in book. Since Mom had been using a weekly calendar as a diary, I chose to use the 2022 book, placing it next to her framed photo.

Many people mentioned how lovely the service was. Part of the success came from a long phone conversation with Pastor Reich. So many small details flowed forth as he asked me questions about Mom’s life. It was like a review of everything that I loved about her. He wove her personality and small acts of kindness into a fabric that was her life. It was then I realized, Mom, you are a beautiful soul.

I told my mother how much I loved her many times while caring for her during the last few years. And she reciprocated.

Take the time this week to tell someone you love them. Give them a warm hug if you can. If they are too far away, wrap your arms around yourself and say, “You are a beautiful soul.” And know that you are a beautiful soul too.

Love,
Dawn