Your Magic Lives On
Today would have been your 99th birthday, and this one has hit me harder…I don’t know why.
Maybe because I am pouring through some of our old genealogy and storytelling work together due to the amazing work (and encouragement) of one of your grandchildren.
Maybe it is because of all the writing I am doing, and the red string for anything I will ever write will always lead straight back to you and your encouragement years ago.
Maybe it is spending all this time at the cottage which was most certainly inspired by you.
Whatever it is, you are missed and loved and still very much needed…still inspiring and felt by all who knew and loved you which is everyone who ever met you.
Your magic lives on…
Happy Birthday #DDS ❤️
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Something #FromTheArchives that I wrote 4.28.2022…
Four years. It one hundred percent does not feel possible.
Grief is the trickiest thing I have ever experienced, and as most of those close to me know, it was the emotion that took me the longest to learn.
Years ago, I nicknamed January “restoration month” because after repeatedly sliding broadside into the year-end for decades (especially in #entrepreneurship ), January became a month of “reset” in all the ways.
So, it comes as no surprise looking back now (from a much more objective and healthier place) that the month I ended up closing a door to one of the most beautiful, precious, complicated seasons of my life, with a goodbye to the one at the center of it all, the one who had secretly sewn my childhood heart back together…happened in January.
Let me tell you, friends, there are NO coincidences in this life.
We don’t talk openly, or enough, about grief in this world, especially in the U.S. We have an unspoken expectation that people are to “get over it” and “get on with it” as if their whole world didn’t just crumble in pieces all around them - whether it is death, relationship dissolving, abandonment, job loss, accident, fill-in-the-blank.
I find when I try to talk to people about grief or any other topic I have all the words for - because I have a lot of thoughts and/or feelings on stuff, people tend to tune me out or wave their hand away - literally or figuratively. I think, in some ways, that is why I became a writer. Even as a young child, I was “a lot” and my “family” - well, let’s say I was way too much (as I have previously written about). Writing gave me a place to go. A safe place. I was never too much for pen + paper.
When I met #DDS, I found a soulmate of sorts for all my big thoughts/feelings/passions/emotions/questions, and it was a SAFE place. She was a safe harbor in a very stormy season and, to be quite frank, what had been a stormy life (albeit hidden). I had never known anyone who could absorb ALL the rumblings, questions, and curiosity within me. She did, and for a beautiful season, she mothered me and helped me sort a big swath of them out; the rest took a lot of therapy.
I don’t live in regret, but I have a bucket of them. I have a couple tied to her, maybe more than a couple.
What I do know today. What she taught me. What I even saw glimpses of that day I said goodbye four years ago…
Grief does/can/will convert to joy. It takes intentionality, willpower, and time, but it is possible.
So, as I sit here this morning with fresh grief washing over me….I can literally feel her hands holding mine. Hear her laughter. Feel her body crush mine in a hug. I don’t know what to tell you other than this…feel it. Feel every damn bit of it and let your soul/mind/heart/body release it. Because once you do, there is room for joy and more life.
Here is to that. Here is to the ones who taught us how to live. ❤️
#lessonsingrief
It is funny to write and share all of this today as I have been writing privately about wanting more laughter and joy in my life with the ones who always seem to make me laugh. I am “over” being sad and writing about it; transition seasons hold a lot of sadness that must be processed.
Doretha and I spent a lot of time laughing. She was so much fun. If something turned deep or serious, after a time, she would flip the script and have us laughing. When I say she taught me that ‘grief can convert to joy,’ I mean it. She was gifted in this area.
I miss her. Deeply.
Just this past week, I was sharing a story about her with a friend. It was about a discussion Doretha and I had once about how people grow bitter or sweeter as they age, and let me tell you—she was the sweetest. I remember telling her how I prayed I got sweeter; I wanted to be just like her.
I am still trying to be like her. Even now.
Friends, stay close to the ones that make you feel safe, seen, known, peaceful, and like magic. The ones who make you laugh even in the throes of struggle. They are rare. They are the keepers.
Happy Sunday!
❤️
Author’s Note: I am currently running a fever under a wool blanket on my couch, so I will record a voiceover tomorrow (hopefully). The voiceover was recorded on 9.24.2024.
