Anchors and buoys
By the time you read this I will have taken off on what I hope will be a life changing adventure. I’m equal parts excited and nervous and also a little bit wondering if manifesting is real? You see, about a month ago, I received an email from a fellow loss mama with an offer I couldn’t refuse (movie reference 100% intended).
The last few months I’ve been coming to the realization that my grief journey has once again stalled. Not entirely unlike my experiences with grief limbo in that first year when I could externally function in the world as a shell but internally I was still very fractured. This time around my public and private selves are more in sync - I’ve learned how to better carry my grief or perhaps developed endurance - yet, I still feel weighed down. Perhaps even pulled down.
“Have you experienced many moments of bliss since Adelaide died?”
“Well, um… I’m not sure actually. I must have, right? I mean, it’s been nearly three years. It’s just that I’m having a hard time finding a moment that isn’t also tinged by her absence.”
Adelaide’s presence, once my North Star that guided every decision I made, has plummeted to the depths of my very being and settled there as an anchor. I am struggling to find a way to move forward with her memory and still allow myself the joy in life that we all deserve. It’s like every experience, every memory after her death, has a filter on it. The degree to which the filter shades the moment varies but it is always there, dulling the colors and dimming the brightness. It’s not that I’m faking happiness when I exhibit it, but its not the same - it feels tainted or impure.
Yes, I know this is not what she would want. Yes, I know this emotional state doesn’t benefit her, me or anyone else for that matter. However none of these rational thoughts have allowed me to cut my tether to the anchor because that would mean cutting my tether to her and that is impossible. So if I can’t cut the tether what am I supposed to do?
There is a phrase in Judaism that is shared after a loved one passes, “may their memory be a blessing.” I have always loved this sentiment but, until recently, didn’t understand that it was the very thing I have struggled to achieve. Instead of Adelaide’s memory being an anchor I need to find a way for it to be my blessing or, because I love a good thematic metaphor, my buoy. I want her memory to lift me up, to keep me afloat, to brighten and enhance my life.
Identifying the issue is one thing, figuring out how to solve it, how to turn an anchor into a buoy, well that’s another thing entirely. It was around this time that I was questioning my alchemical skills that Carole’s email popped up in my inbox.
Carole is a friend of a friend who wrote the children’s book THE GIFT OF THE LADYBUG about accepting her son’s illness and his short life. Her creative ventures have not ended there though, she is now producing a TV pilot where, as the host, she will make culinary dreams come true with the sole purpose of helping her guests find and feel joy again after deep loss. Think Anthony Bourdain meets Queer Eye (minus the physical makeover…and five gay men): travel to a part of the world, experience their delicious food and vibrant culture in hopes of finding moments of bliss. An act that is exceedingly difficult to do once grief has descended upon our lives.
“I want you to be my first guest. To come with me to Sicily to film the pilot. Is that something you would be interested in? Something you could do? Can I try and help you find moments of joy again?”
“Um…yes?”
It sounds like a no-brainer right? I mean who says no to an all expense paid trip to Sicily with the sole purpose of finding happiness in wine and food? Yet, it has taken me the better part of the last month to convince myself that I am doing the right thing by going. First, I felt guilty because there is absolutely someone out there more deserving of this experience than me. Then, I felt guilty for leaving my family. Then I questioned if a trip to Sicily could actually help me. I’m sure I will find several other reasons to question this decision or feel guilty before my plane touches down but I’m also trying to take this opportunity to let go a little bit.
After all, the last time I let go and just focused on me was when I attended the grief retreat for loss mama’s and was finally able to push through my first bout of grief limbo. Maybe this is the kick in the butt or the change of scenery I need to pull myself out of my current headspace - to transform my anchor into a buoy.
Don’t worry, you know I’m good for a full report. But for now I’m going to try and remain open to the experience. I am releasing myself of guilt and obligation and giving myself permission to just live in the moment and enjoy it. Now, please excuse me while I go carpe some diem.
