Here comes the rain...oh, wait, those are tears...Welcome, Fall.

The rain has come to Northern California; with it, the cooler weather has made me melancholy and brought a movement away from the pool-splashing days of summer into the cool crisp days of Fall. This year seems different. I'm trying to understand what's shifted and don't have the words yet to describe it, but it might have something to do with the grief training I've gone through and the completion of my loss with my mom and Evan. Although I have many other completions to do, my mom and Evan have significantly impacted the healing of my broken heart.

Recovery, for me, does not mean forgetting. On the contrary, recovery means remembering fond memories of those I love, thinking about them daily, and healing my heart from the emotional pain loss brings. I can confidently say that my training and understanding of completing my losses have been a game changer for me. Grief is cumulative, and when we realize loss's impact on us, it can transform if we allow ourselves the time and space to unpack it so we can heal. It starts with being fully honest and not criticizing or judging ourselves. It opens the door to being empathic and compassionate for ourselves and others who may be grieving. It also can be heartbreaking when you see people's pain, yet they cannot take the steps towards recovery.

As someone who has been a part of the small group movement, I've seen growth in myself. People's desire to change is genuine until a day and time are announced, and all of a sudden, obstacles start to arise. I recognize them cause I've seen that behavior in myself. I'm grateful that we ask people to commit to 1% of their recovery as part of the program. If you are willing to take a step toward what I can offer, I can bring the elements that can transform and help. I began my pilot group, and we just completed our 4th week of our gatherings. These folks not only have showed up they have begun to do the hard grief work that can lead them to the completion of their losses. I'm fortunate to have a program I can believe in and that I can share with others. I'm grateful for this group of grievers who have allowed me to walk with them as they begin to discover and heal. It is a privilege.

Spring Forward, Fall is Back...

"How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days." - John Burroughs

Sunday, September 23rd marked the beginning of Fall, and that always brings about all of the Fall feelings. The one thought at the forefront in my mind is that I miss Evan. This isn’t a rare thing as I miss Evan every day, but maybe I'm anticipating the fact that this will be another birthday without him. This time of year has always been a favorite of mine. All the colors, the cooler mornings and warm afternoons, the anticipation of celebrations and just the vibe of Fall...but alas I'm overcome with melancholy. I know it will dissipate over time only to come back sometimes stronger than when it left, but it lingers through January. The new year and winter time brings its own set of emotions and feelings with it.

I'm trying hard to be in a different state of mind as I approach this birthday. I'm battling the voices and memories inside my head that want to take me back and then yank me forward. I want to find a place that is restoring/filling me, but I also want to be mindful of remembering. When I mention Evan, he is in the present, and my desperate need for him to be in the present with me is the thing that I think is the most difficult for those who don't understand. I can't help but think that I'm celebrating yet another birthday and Evan’s not here. That I will continue to celebrate birthdays and he won’t be here. That my future does not hold Evan and yet the past is filled with him. So the question is where do I want to be? And where should I be? The answer to these ponderings can't be answered by me at this time cause the space between the want and should is too vast.

The last few weeks I've kept busy with event photography and other thing photography related. I've been working, and in all the busyness I've been able to keep the memories that are inside my head at bay. That doesn't change that you won't be here to give me a hug or debate the latest political challenges. That makes me weepy...pretty much most of my memories make me weepy. I know it makes people uncomfortable. I know they want it to be ok. I know that they have the best intentions. I know that I'm loved and cared for in the best way. I just feel on some level that I've been cheated, robbed of moments in the future. I sometimes think that I worry about what people think. I’m learning that in all of this I am ok. That what I do and what I say can be judged, but in the end, I must walk out my grief in the way that fits me. I’m grateful for people who understand this truth. I’m especially thankful to my son Alex who walks along this path with me. Although we each are walking our own way, I realize that a portion of this journey we are walking in tandem with each other. Helping each other to take the next step and at times stopping to mourn our loss together. The vacancy of our loss is real to us as a family and the pain of that is raw and at times so very painful.