Darkness and the dogwood blossoms
The last three weeks have been very, very dark for me. Perhaps it was because of my recent transition. I am aware of my vulnerability after landing and then integrating from our trip to Nepal. It may have something to do with being cracked wide open by my experience there. It could be that more and more moms and dads have recently been coming to me for parenting advice. I have also been stirred by so many communications I have recently received about the Netflix series, “Thirteen Reasons Why.” I know that Mother’s Day is a huge trigger for me, a day in which I wish I could just jump over. I am flooded with anxiety and sadness.
It has been just over a year and a half since Maya took her life. Some say that the first year brings biggest the challenge. Once one experiences the first round of holidays and anniversaries, it is helpful to know that it is actually possible to do so. Then others have shared that the second year is harder, as the reality sets in differently. The shock is not there to help absorb the pain. Interestingly, during the first year, I managed to work on serious preparations for all of the holidays, birthdays and anniversaries. For all but one, I carried much more emotional charge on the days leading up to the holiday, than the day itself. That one day, was Mother’s Day. So, in this case, I do not have experience to draw from. It was excruciating. A friend suggested that I try something different. As best as I can, I am working on this. Perhaps simply sharing these words with you will help a shift.
I have been aware that the blossoms on the dogwood trees outside Maya’s and our bedroom windows have been open and attached to the trees longer than springs of the past. Is this Maya’s Mother’s Day gift to me? I love the image that Maya is sharing a burst of light in my time of darkness.
(Top photo, two weeks before Maya’s birth on top of Bonticou Crag. Bottom photo,bedroom window, winter 2001 )
💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️
So so painful.
I know that I cannot take your pain away, but I am here for you my
friend.
I love you immensely,
Susan
My arms and heart are open to you, always, my dear Elise.
I can’t imagine what you must go through. Wish there were words to say that could make it better. I can only give love and I’m sending it to you
💜
Well, as I’ve found out, Maya is still very much by your side, Elise. It is clear to me that your journey is simultaneously hers, as well. You’re both learning to live without each other, perhaps in different dimensions of existence. One day is no different from the next, for a mother. Take solace in your continued connection. I am with you with much love and caring.
Blessings, Mercedes
My dear Elisel, no one can make the pain go away but know you have so many sending you love and support. Not only on this holiday, but everyday. I love you my friend and wish I could be there to wipe the tears.
😢
The spectacular display of dogwoods this year is a gift.
You’re on a journey that you didn’t choose and it’s so challenging to say the least.
Your sharing helps us all. You are loved and carried.
❤️❤️❤️
This writing touched me so. I, too, lost a child at 24 years of age. The first year is difficult, but as you say, the shock absorbs some of the pain. The second year we are left with “this is it’ forever more.
This is my 2nd Mothers Day without my son. Wish I could sleep thru it.
Thank you for your beautiful, honest words.
Sending hugs, love and strength to everyone who lives in the “before and after”.
Big
❤️
For You with you in you by you
Huge hugs wrapping your heart and soul. Rebirth brings hope, the message of spring. Much love
You are in my heart today, my dear friend…..
I know this is a hard day for you and I send my deep love
I love you Elise. Thank you for bringing the depths of your feelings and pain and love into the light. May you be surrounded and swathed in a healing, loving light.
Sending you love today, especially. May tomorrow be brighter and lighter for you. Love, E
We are with you always, Elise. Walk with light.
holding hands with you, Elise.
💖💖
Elise
Sending love and hugs and tears and strength. Much love. Beth
Oh Elise. Our love is with you, never pausing, ever expanding. I would like to share with you about our Mother’s Day weekend and a celebration we held for Felicia’s mother Louise, our first Mother’s Day without her. With the most tender and warm hug, Sarah
Thank you Sarah, and I’d love to hear about the day. Let’s find some time!
My thought is that I will share here, in another post, a couple of pearls from my day yesterday, my second Mother’s Day since. It was a good day.
xox, E.
Look forward to connecting soon! and glad to hear it was a good day. Much love! Sarah
I couldn’t get you out of my mind yesterday. I can only imagine how excruciating it was for you. I wish I could say or write something to take away some of the pain, but not to be. I send hugs and love. It’s all I can do.