On loss, grief and hope

It's been a shit of of a time lately.  I am just going to lay it all out there.

My mother died two years ago this April.  She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer too late and although she fought harder than we will ever understand for another four years with us it was not to be.  Her death was cruel and prolonged and unforgivable.   She died when I was six months pregnant with my son, a baby she never got to feel kick, a grandson she never got to meet. I wish for her help and guidance every day. I wish for my mother. Wish is not the proper word. I suffer for want of it.

I feel our loss harder this year than last. I am better understanding fully every day what I have lost, what my son lost, what my father lost in losing his mate.

I had another miscarriage last month, a week after my birthday.

And then my grandpa died on New Year's Eve.  He was 90 years old.  Laid down in his own bed and didn't wake up again.  Grandpa was one of the great heroes in my life.  I could not have possibly loved him more and he knew that.  He was among other things a farmer and an outdoorsman and took me along with him everywhere when I was little. He was one of the people in my life that shone like the sun.  I can barely talk about this.

He left behind his wife of 64 years and a large family.  My grandmother has advanced dementia and must go to a nursing home for her own safety.  The farm where I spent my childhood will be sold. The barn and fields I played in gone.  The porch where my grandmother and I would shell peas and the kitchen where we baked bread, gone.  The high lonely ridge my father and I hunt on each year which overlooks a creek, gone. These things are necessary and unavoidable and horrible.

I joke that I come from stoic people.  My people do not air their laundry.  I am normally private on this blog.  Possibly I will feel embarrassed by this post.  Probably later I will take it down.

I am sharing this because I know I am not the only person out there who is dealing with loss this holiday season. I am probably misremembering the details but I am reminded of a story  about a woman who pleads to Buddha to bring a child back who she has lost.  He replies "if you bring me just a single mustard seed from a house that has known no suffering I will restore your child".  She is elated by the promise but as she goes from door to door begging for salvation at each one finds she a family that has lost someone precious.

Most people you meet in your day have a burden.   You learn to shoulder it as best you can; to lean into it and pull it alongside you. It's lighter some days and heavier others. But it's always there.

There is no room for death in our culture.  No room for grief.  It embarrasses people and makes them uncomfortable.

To be certain, I have very much in my life to be thankful for.

The very least we can do is to be a bit kinder to one another.   To treasure what we have while we have it.

And hope this year is a better one.