One Year, Five Months

I got this in an email this morning. The picture was taken on December 25th, 1983 in Cali. It was the Christmas I talked about in this post, when I went home for just 5 days in the middle of my chaplaincy internship. When I looked at the picture, I was struck by my mom: how vivid and clearly her personality came through. She was younger in that picture than I am today and that just blew me away. It’s a great picture of my brothers—they were both so elegant and graceful. My dad’s expression is weird—very much not him. And then, there’s me. Wearing a dress I had very proudly sewed myself—I had very little money that year and was trying hard to be more financially independent. Still so uncomfortable in my own skin, trying so hard simply to be a good girl and be liked. I had almost erased myself in the process. I didn’t dwell long on the email, too much else to take care of today.

Tonight, I got to go out and walk after several days not being able to. My mind slowly settled into the rhythm of my rambles and then, the flashbacks were back. And the grief. At first, I thought it was the picture. Then I figured out the date. November 5th. One year and five months ago today, my mother died. No wonder. The body knows.

One thought on “One Year, Five Months

  1. Sometimes it’s a day or two before you are aware of the connection….then, a eureka moment….that’s why I cried so hard and knew not why. Or, that’s why I lashed out at what normally would have been nothing….now I understand. Our bodies know. Our hearts know. Even as we try valiantly to move on….and in time, we become intimately aware that ‘moving on’ does not require that we fail to honor with loving remembrances, loving thoughts…and sometimes painful thoughts and remembrances, those we have loved who have gone on before us….and yet are always with us. The years simply make the private thoughts and smiles so much sweeter.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.