Relinquish and reclaim

I was talking with a mom friend at Jackson’s baseball game about death and grief, you know as one does, and mentioned that all of Adelaide’s big days were coming up. I confessed that the beginning of October hits a little different than other months. It's not quite ominous, maybe portentous, certainly uneasy. She admitted that after losing her father unexpectedly that she feels the same way about April, “it smells different”.

These months and their pitfalls of memories, drive us to relive over and over again all the ‘lasts’: the last picture, the last phone call, the last hug, the last ‘I love you’. We relive the moments that led up to their last breath or the moments before we received that call. They move in slow motion, suffocated by impending dread, scored by a sorrow-filled string orchestra.

This year, as the memories from past early Octobers pop up in my phone’s notifications, I find myself conflicted. Recently, I’ve been doing well, better than well even, I am growing as a writer, mother and advocate. I can see a path forward in my life that could be fulfilling and nourishing in a way that I haven’t felt since caring and advocating for Adelaide consumed my every thought. As some of my consistent readers may recognize, I am often trying to figure out how to reconcile where I am with where I’ve been. And these weeks have been no different. How do I coexist in the good place and still recognize my horrific loss? It’s like trying to steer a boat while paddling in opposite directions.

I remind myself that the only reason this is coming up now is because Hell week is upon me: Adelaide’s death day on the 12th followed by her birthday on the 17th. Prior to this month I felt more balanced. No matter which direction the oars pulled my boat I was able to stay standing. But it’s more nuanced than that. I’m increasingly scared that the sorrow and grief isn’t hitting me as hard as it once did. I KNOW that’s to be expected, I KNOW that’s healthy. I have done the hard work necessary so that I can find happiness again. Being ok, even happy, is the goal, right?

Effing guilt.

Don’t get me wrong, I miss her terribly – I watch the videos on my phone and scroll through the photo memories when they come up and I remember the way my hands felt in her hair, or how scrumptious it was to squeeze her thighs. Tears will well in my eyes and a lump forms in my throat but it is not the uncontrollable tsunami of grief that used to suck me under.

The tears don’t fall.

The lump is swallowed.

I’m ok.

I do my best not to worry about what other people expect me to act like, to grieve like. So, I’m not overly concerned with what other people think about my public grief. For me, this latest unbalancing is driven by the connection I have to Adelaide herself. When all I have left of her is my grief, and it’s power lessens, it can feel like I’m losing her a little bit all over again.

What I’m coming to understand as we close out our third year without her, is that healing and growing eventually means relinquishing and reclaiming. I’ve talked myself in circles about how moving forward doesn’t have to mean letting go. That we can and should hold on to the love, to the memories, and that’s still true. I still love President Biden’s line from his speech before his inauguration, “to heal we must remember.” We don’t need to let go of our loved one, or forget them (as if we could), but we do need to relinquish the control they have on our lives and reclaim it as our own. Adelaide’s presence no longer dictates my life… and (most of the time) neither does her absence. It has taken me years, but the vacuum left in her wake is being filled, as is natural and healthy.

Relinquishing and reclaiming is not letting go, it is not forgetting, it is making space for what is presently in front of us. It is focusing on the places where we can affect positive change – be that preparing a healthy lunch for ourselves, assisting a child with homework, or landing a big client at work. And then celebrating those inchstones and milestones when we do. It is not letting our past control us. But instead, living in the present, being aware of the future and honoring our past.

So, I will accept and allow this natural reclaiming of my emotions and honor Adelaide as feels right. I will do my best to relinquish my guilt and re-balance my boat. And then I will give myself grace if these next couple weeks are just a little shakier than most. Because that’s ok too.