Seasons of Grief

Autumn is a season of grief. The days get shorter, and the nights get longer. Just like childhood, the curfew says to come home before dark. The holiday season starts to rev up, but some of us aren’t so ready to celebrate and be merry. Some of us are still in that season of grief, and are struggling just to do the day-to-day. I am one of those people.

I have been trying to crawl out of a hole for quite some time now. At first I was just sad. I was sad about things not working out the way that I had hoped. I was sad about the anniversaries of last year’s losses, the people who are missing from this year’s celebrations. That sadness quickly overwhelmed me turning into full-blown depression.

Winter is Coming

My life has drastically changed in the past few years. I quit my job for one. It was something that needed to happen. That season of my life was coming to an end whether I was ready for it or not. I started a new business with my husband. We wanted the ability to create anything we wanted, and to share it with the world without any legal ramifications. It was all so exciting!

That new car smell quickly wore off, and I started questioning everything. What am I doing with my life? Where am I going? The questions began to get deeper. What do I really want to do? Am I acting in accordance with my wishes, or the wishes of others? (I am a recovering people-pleaser, so this is a huge issue for me.) Who are “they” anyway, and why do they have so much say over how I choose to live my life?

The shitty part is that when you start asking questions, the Universe starts revealing the answers to you. Slowly at first, but if you don’t pay attention, BOOM! You get blown up in a food truck. Still can’t get the message. WHAM! The Universe will keep smacking you until you figure it out.

Me, well, I got a double-whammy. Number one, I believe that I was drugged while out having drinks with my friends. (No, I didn’t get a drug test. By the time I was able to put all of the pieces together, it was too late.) Number two, a few days after that happened my Mother-in-Love had a stroke, landing her in the hospital.

Note: I like to call her my Mother-in-Love as opposed to my Mother-in-Law. I didn’t only marry my husband, I married his whole family, and I love them just as though they are my own.

A Very Remarkable Woman

I never knew that losing someone so close to you literally felt as though your heart was breaking. I thought it was just a silly metaphor, until I knew it wasn’t. I have lost people in the past, but never any that touched me like she did.

It’s difficult to describe the legacy of a person to people who have never met her. Those who know her just know. You can feel her energy in the air, her presence and grace when she enters a room, always carrying the biggest smile across her face. She forced people to look at themselves and to break the stories that are holding themselves back. She made you look at things from a different perspective, all while cheering you on from the sidelines.

I never knew her as an educator. I knew her after she retired from 30 years of being a teacher. She never really stopped teaching though. She just stopped teaching from other people’s rule book. I will never understand her love for William Shakespeare. (I personally do not understand his writing.) Maybe if I had her for Senior English I would get it.

Seventeen Days

That’s how many days she was in the hospital. Toward the end we knew it was time to let her go. We had to stop holding on. Ultimately it was her decision. We just chose to carry out her final wishes.

After spending the better part of a month living out of a suitcase, and driving back and forth from Roanoke to Richmond, I think I finally figured something out. It took me a while, but we had a lot of time to sit and wait and think. I have become so worried with what I should be doing or shouldn’t be doing that I am missing out on the being part. That’s what we are, right? Human beings, not human doings.

The holidays have been very strange without her. Tears well up to the surface when you least suspect it. A few gifts that landed under my Christmas tree had been picked out by her before she died, all symbols of the strength you have inside of you to change. It’s almost as if she knew I needed these items to help me through to the other side of this depression.

• A candle with a Turquoise amulet
• A butterfly scarf
• A rosary, gifted by her twin sister

Even in her death I am still receiving the gifts of her lessons, her final one being the most sacred of them all. During this time of grief, I have learned how great my capacity to love truly is.

You will forever remain in my heart and in my thoughts. I love you, Karen Yolton. XOXO – Jenna