Lessons Learned Along the Way

Life is a series of lessons taught to us, and then using those lessons to move our path forward. I've learned many things over the last almost seven years. These things have been hard lessons and have taken me down painful pathways, yet I've learned a lot about others and how that looks and feels for me. This year has been a year of growth, and with that growth comes hard decisions and the continued loneliness that is grief. I've continued formulating my path, which has always been the way it is. Grief isn't something one does with others; it is more of a parallel journey. With my discoveries through the Grief Recovery Method of how loss impacts not just life but the physical parts of us, I've had to take a long hard look at how I move through grief and loss. In many ways, it has given me space not to hold others hostage to my feelings and allowed me to have some grace for them. Still, it also has given me the understanding that processing our losses is complicated, and many don't have the tools to unpack their grief/loss.

I'm also trying to figure out how one processes the loss of community, not just from the loss of your child but also from the failure of unmet expectations. This time (my son's death and the pandemic) has shown me what I've always felt: we're alone. My attitude has been the downside of loss, and it has allowed flaws in myself to be multiplied, and that has caused great judgment of myself and others. The Grief Recovery Method has helped me see the things I wish had been different, better, or more, and has released me from the feelings that come with undelivered communication.

For this reason, I've been so grateful to have the tools I need to process my hopes, dreams, and expectations, which are the primary source of my pain. I will continue to think through what I wish had been different, better, or more with my relationship with others and reflect on the changes it has brought me.

Grief Recovery is for anyone who has suffered grief or loss of any kind. For more on groups that are starting in April, click on the link https://www.griefrecoverymethod.com/grms/dawn-kincade

Happy Birthday to you!!

Today is your birthday and as you begin your 29th trip around the sun I want you to know that we are so proud of you and are so grateful for the light that you bring to us. We don’t always agree and that’s ok. We hold on to the things that matter most, each other. This last year found you doing new things and forging new, uncharted paths.

As your mom, I want to give you space to acknowledge how the threads of grief and loss weave through the very fabric of any occasion we celebrate. The passing of time is a thief and sometimes we are left empty handed watching it run away from us. It seems to start as the season's change and carries through, at least for me, until spring. Honestly, it never goes away. I also realize that there are things that Dad and I don't know that only Evan held about you, and it's those things that I mourn. It's that proximity that I agonize over as I can't give those to you. You can't always articulate those things; you often seem without the words you need to express it, and I want to help, but I'm just a listener—an observer of the grief you bear. So I listen. I hold open the door so that you can walkthrough. I mourn with you as it seems hard to find those who understand these parts—the loss of a brother and all that comes with it. Happy Birthday, son! May this year hold great things for you as you continue to walk out your path.

Mosaic of Seasons

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all." Stanley Horowitz

I love this quote as it is a lovely word picture of the seasons and the different art mediums. Fall brings cooler weather, leaves changing, shorter days, and the smell of rain in the air. On the other hand, spring brings the brightest flowers, warmer weather, longer days, and the scent of new beginnings. Fall brings an end to the cycle that will begin again when spring returns. It's part of the journey, and yet we so look forward to spring, at least I do. Fall brings changes and those feelings of loss and grief for me.

This Saturday will mark the last birthday I spent with Evan here on this planet five years ago. It's one of the many birthday memories I have of us as a family, and as I begin this new year, it's a longing to be together that never leaves me. The internet isn't always kind when we see all the family's celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, and other special events, and I am ALWAYS repeating the same photos and feelings. This time of year is hard. I woke up the other day, and this overwhelming sense of grief came over and had me crying into my pillow until the sunrise. The days between tears have gotten longer. Softer. But they're still very hard. Sad. Painful. I read this article about Grief Math and had often wondered if these calculations I do on the future anniversaries and such are just a quirky thing that I do, but I've come to realize that it's a thing. That helped me feel ok about what I do.

So Saturday, I begin my next trip around the sun, and with that, I've come out on the other side one-year cancer-free. YAY! I've recovered from radiation and C*vid, and I've learned who can be trusted and who will see me through when the going gets tough. That has been the most painful and most challenging lesson for me. Just as in the earlier parts of grief, you come to realize who can be in it for the long haul, and you find that most of the time, when you go to lean back, the community has left you, and just a few are left to hold your heart. You also learn that the people who dare to stand with you are the people that have similar wounds that you do. Those people understand, and if your space is filled with a few of these precious souls, you are luckier than most.

So I walk into this birthday, feeling slightly anxious about what the future holds but more resolute to follow my path and with the feelings of grief and loss still right on the surface, ready to wake me in the early morning hours to have me watch for the sunrise.

John and Alex, thanks for always talking me off the edge. You both always find a way to carry my heart even though you, too, are walking out your grief.

Sunflowers among the weeds...International Bereaved Mother's Day 05/05/19

Sunday, May 5th is International Bereaved Mother’s Day. I’ve done blog posts in the past, and after spending some time editing sunflowers that I happened upon here locally, I saw an opportunity to share in part what I saw while photographing these beauties.

Sunflower season here in Solano and Yolo Counties will be sometime in June, and yet I was able to find a few springing up in a field where they were last year. Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers. I’ve added a few fun facts about them just to give you an understanding of how amazing they are. Sunflowers are used to demonstrate a mathematical term called a Fibonacci sequence. You can also see this sequence in artichokes and cauliflowers. While reading about this sequence in sunflowers researchers have found that the patterns can be inconsistent in sunflowers and quoting the article “real life is messy.” This is a truth that is lived out daily in the life of a bereaved parent and when speaking about loss and grief. https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2016/05/sunflowers-show-complex-fibonacci-sequences It is the only flower to have the word “flower” in its name. Sunflower removes toxins and is a natural decontaminator of soil. They have been used to clean up dirt at some of the biggest environments disasters, including Chernobyl and Fukushima. Sunflowers are native to the Americas. Some of these facts come from this article. https://www.thespruce.com/fun-facts-about-sunflowers-3972329 As you might now see sunflowers have a medicinal quality to them. They have been used to heal and remove toxins from soil. As I photographed these beautiful flowers, I was struck by the fact that even though they were growing among weeds, they thrived. I saw a few bees although they seemed to be moving slowly and possibly dying. So much about these flowers lead me to see myself and other bereaved mothers the same way.

These flowers were strong. Even though the weeds had dropped some of the seeds to strike down these flowers they still stood firm...strong almost like flower sentinels. They’re looking for the sun and following its course across the sky. They are beautiful. Some of their petals hidden from the sun but just as yellow and brilliant as the noonday sun. Some of these beauties had yet to open, and many of them winking so to speak as only a few of their petals had started to open.

This blog goes out to all of you who mourn the loss of your child/ren. You inspire me. Even amid your loss, you continue to move towards health. You still remind me that you are bright sunflower standing firm in your memories of your child/ren. You are learning that your loss has defined for you those things that are toxic and you move towards removing them from your path. Some of you are still trying to figure out what you need and yet, you persevere opening up just a few of your petals as you follow your path. The loss of your child will continue to shape each move you make. It will define who you are and why you do what you do. I pray that you continue to remain strong and resilient. Standing tall like a sunflower.