Spring Grief


What I've learned about my grief is that I respond to the calendar even when I don't want to (and I've convinced myself I don't need to). The cultural and seasonal triggers of particular dates, especially holidays, are so strong that even if I think I can ignore a particular day, I'm inundated by social reminders (people wearing flip flops, pastel window displays and Father's Day discounts at big box stores) and environmental triggers (bright flowers, warm breezes, sunny nights). I'm forced to confront reality head on. 

Two years ago this spring, my sister had a lot of hope and enthusiasm — she was moving to a new home, she was cancer free, she was active and ambitious. Spring reminds me of her happiness and her vision for the future. 

Lately I just want to sit by myself under this cozy blanket (that magically has great ventilation so that I don't have the unbearable hot/suffocating feeling). I want to be alone and ignore all the triggers that inundate my senses. But I wont. Partly because a magical, non-suffocating blanket doesn't exist. Partly because I also really like spring. When I was a kid and my peers responded to the classic, "What's your favorite season?" question with, "SUMMERRRR!" I thought that I had mature, refined taste when I replied, "Spring — it smells so good!".

Spring is just really hard.




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