Grief Moves With Time, And So Do We

On Sunday, I stood at the edge of a small dock that hovered just a foot above the dark waters of a tiny pond.

My boyfriend and I had gone upstate to spend the weekend at the one-room cabin my father-in-law purchased over fifty years ago.

The same one-room cabin where my husband and I faced the reality of his addiction one grim morning twelve years ago.

I thought I could be there, at the cabin.

The setting is postcard-perfect. 

In fact, a postcard of it from the 1940s does exist. (see below!)

Back then, the property had several cabins above the pond, next to a big red barn and a swingset that still stands.

Tall pines line the shore of the large pond.

I’d never been there without my kids or extended family.

Without them, the memories became visages—forms I could almost touch.

The sweet ones included – My husband teaching my four-year-old how to chop wood; my daughter how to hunt for tadpoles. 

As my boyfriend relaxed in the cabin, I walked.

And as I walked, I dropped deeper into a space I hadn’t spent time in for a while.

A small pond with a same sized gazebo is set off from the rest of the property.

Under the gazebo. I sat. I stood. I paced.

My grief wanted to speak. So I stayed with her.

And she came.

Grief for my kids. For myself. For Eric.

Ten years ago today.

The first day of school.

That’s when I got the call that he was gone.

At 7 this morning, my phone dinged. A “💙” from a friend..

My son left for his first day of school just minutes ago. His last year of high school.

My daughter is in her first week of junior year at college.

I am so f-cking grateful that they are creating their own way through their loss.

Like them, I’m in another life transition too.  (They come often, don't they? And often in pairs!)

It’s like that.

Grief moves with time.

Any life transition can open a portal to the past—to the vast river of grief that flows within us.

And I want to dip myself into those muddy waters when grief wants my attention—

Because really, it's a river of love too, filled with our deepest desires and sweetest longings.

I am more present today because I spent time with grief this weekend.

With big love in times of change and transition,

Naomi