Tag: holidays and grief

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Solstice

“Winter solstice, also called hibernal solstice… when the path of the Sun in the sky is farthest south…. At the winter solstice the sun travels the shortest path through the sky, and that day therefore has the least daylight and the longest night.” In the Northern Hemisphere, this falls on December 21 or 22.- Encyclopaedia Britannica

If ever there was a year that the light felt far away and the darkness seemed to linger too long… this might be the year.

It’s not my most painful year by far… but the longevity and the constant stream of challenges has been remarkable. Instead of a sudden, gut-punching blow, this has been more of a slow bleed… and I am weakening from the anemia. I am tired, sore and sad.

Pain and sadness have always drawn me inside myself- be it emotional pain and grief or physical pain. While at first onset, I am unsettled… after a period, it draws me inward; and there, in my own shadows, I am afforded the opportunity to allow the pain to transform me- to become bitter-or- to reflect and learn, and become better. The choice is mine.

I reflect on my many moments of pain-my brother’s death, childbirth, accidents and illnesses, holding my first stillborn, saying good-bye to foster children, burying a beloved pet, losing a patient… the moments are many… and every time, I went inward.

I was both a nurse and a mother of two when my grandmother died slowly from cancer, cancer she elected not to treat as it was end stage when it was discovered. I remember that she would keep busy with small projects and pray when the pain was at its worst- a distraction and a novena of sorts for a devoutly religious woman. While I processed the loss, I reflected on the myriad of feelings that came to surface. I tried to apply my hospital training to at-home hospice, all the while guiding my children through their first experience of death. Secretly, I hated her martyrdom. Pain should be avoided not coddled, I believed.

But pain, I’ve come to learn, is inevitable.

While some know this old foe better than others, no one is afforded a life without it. And the timing of our meetings are rarely anticipated- leaving us unguarded and taken aback by its arrival.

Acceptance is never immediate. At first the pain is an intruder and your reaction is rejection, discontent and a drive to fight the force that is ailing you.

But with time, your energy eases and your senses soften as your stance melts and you bend to sit. It’s not martyrdom or loss but surrender. Surrender to the transformation at hand.

And then, the very darkness you at first, jumped to slay, changes form… the shadows shift and you no longer see a foe… but an old friend… and you ease further and commune, settling in as you settle into an old chair.

And it is in that place, where the light meets the dark that you will find your greatest revelations, if you allow them. Your eyes need time to adjust and to filter the light from the dark. And so long as you don’t stray too far from the light… if you allow yourself to sit in the shadows for a time… allow the process, if you allow the surrender… the darkness becomes your teacher.

For a week I wondered, why? Why the week before an already challenging Christmas am I in pain again… but pain is never well-timed… or is it?

Tonight, with the Winter Solstice approaching… I realize it is not an assault but my old teacher returning.

For many cultures, the solstice is a deeply spiritual time, full of sacred ritual and reflection. The long night affords more time for such inward thoughts and revelations.

This year has been hard and every part of my self feels it. My heart, my mind and my body are exhausted. I am a caregiver by both nature and profession and this global pandemic, along with life, has depleted me. Perhaps this pain was my calling to rest.

Busy with work, busy with packing/unpacking, busy with homeschooling, buying and chores… for a time I allowed myself to be consumed by tasks, when what my soul really needed was rest and time- time with the people I love, well spent, not rushed.

And yet, I am kept away from so many of the people I love. Never have I missed family and friends more than I do now. And I vow to remember this…

Life and love are the greatest of blessings- never should they be taken for granted.

To simply awaken every day is a gift- a gift denied to so many this year. Furthermore, to be afforded people that love you and that in turn, accept your love, are what makes life so rich. Relish in that love while you have it. Be present. Listen. Take it all in. Feel. Invest in the people and moments that matter. Loneliness is the void of every day joys we ache for when they are taken from us.

Yet not every person is worth the energy it takes to create such moments and sustain such bonds. Pain helps to sort out worthy relationships-the people that understand, the people who offer support, the people who remember, the people who stand by and hold your hand until you are whole again. Pain builds a shell that only the worthy take the time to chip away. It is a blessing to know who your allies are. Don’t let the fair-weather friend distract you from your loyal companion. Those who walk through the valleys with you… should never be forgotten or taken for granted.

Nor should your abilities. The ability to walk, talk, see, think… to use our bodies to explore, create, learn and produce goodness… that is a tremendous gift. Many people have learned just what it was to take taste and smell for granted. Over and over, I’ve read accounts of people crying when their senses began to return after a covid infection. And yet these experiences are not a new phenomenon- The vet who lost his legs. The elder whose sight has clouded away. The accident that robbed one of their ability to hear… How easy it is to jump out of the bed and run to the phone… until you’ve lost the ability to walk…and talk… To see someone’s face… until you go blind… To hear the laughter and music of the season until your ears no longer process sound. Today I am choosing to marvel in my abilities.

And I am choosing to marvel in my blessings-my family, my home, a full refrigerator and warmth- just a few enormous blessings denied to so many right now.

Joy and connectedness are not lost- with the tremendous technology available to us. Technology that allows us to watch our holiday favorites on the screen, listen to the tunes of the season, have gifts and goods delivered to our doorsteps, and video calls to see our loved ones faces and share in each other’s moments in an alternative way.

While the darkness affords us the time to reflect, the solstice is also a celebration of the re-birth of the sun, the survival of the longest night and the gain of light to come. I am so incredibly grateful for my bounty and yet, oh, how I yearn for better days to come…

As I sit in this ecliptic state, my blessings are illuminated by the light. They are what I am choosing to set my gaze upon. And yet to see them, I had to sit in the dark for a time. As I continue on my journey, I aim to hold steadfast, my focus on such blessings, but I will not deny the darkness. I am entitled to my grief-from wherever it comes, or however big or small it seems to others. I will honor both the struggle and the reward, the blessings and pain; because one cannot exist without the other.

The solstice is “a time to set goals and intentions for the coming year, to examine and let go of our past, and to make changes within ourselves”… It is “a personal awakening.”-Jessica Booth, Bustle.

This is not the way I would have chosen to spend my holiday season- in pain, away from family and friends, removed from so many meaningful traditions. And yet it’s a year I’ve been afforded so many blessings. And it’s an opportunity to reflect and better myself-to awaken. Perhaps in this time of great unrest, this solstice may be the most meaningful yet… straddling both the light and the dark and embracing them both… A restful hibernation, all the while welcoming a rebirth… as pain and struggle always offer a transformation… and the world circles the star… yet again.

solstice | Definition & Facts | Britannica

What Does The Winter Solstice Mean Spiritually? It’s Celebrated In Tons Of Religions And Cultures (bustle.com)

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Stone Eggs

This has been an Easter unlike any other…

For 4 weeks now, we’ve been in quarantine. Four weeks of scheduling grocery shopping. Four weeks my children haven’t seen their friends, cousins or classmates in the flesh. Four weeks I’ve been a mother, nurse, writer, wife … and now middle school and high school teacher, resource finder, creative outlet user, frontline emergency worker. I’m tired.

And now for the sake of my children and for the sake of searching for goodness (a principle I always promote), we are faced with a holiday, that in my humble opinion, must be celebrated. Not because I feel a religious obligation, because I don’t (and I mean that with no disrespect to those who do).  It must be celebrated because our children, our selves, have been robbed of enough these past few weeks.

We’ve been robbed of peace-of-mind, robbed of face-to-face human interaction, robbed of convenience, day-to-day food items and amenities we’ve come to expect, robbed of traditional schooling and many jobs, and some of us have even been robbed of our safety and health. I will not allow this virus to rob us of this holiday too. And yet we have this moral and social obligation to maintain social distancing for the sake of that very health and safety we stand to lose further.

So how? How do we celebrate when everything we’ve come to know and expect has changed? Holidays are largely built upon tradition and togetherness. I come from a huge Catholic family.  And while I have abandoned the religious aspect of the holiday due to my personal beliefs, I greatly anticipate the tradition and togetherness that comes with each holiday, this one included. In my family, we are used to a table filled with lamb and ham, deviled eggs and endless desserts, salads and side dishes. We are used to getting dressed-up in new spring apparel, Easter egg hunts and baskets filled to the brim. We are used to a day well spent in each other’s presence, with laughter, good food, conversation and games.

How do we celebrate this one… in quarantine- when resources and groceries are so limited? And the faces we normally anticipate seeing are all isolated in their own homes… How do we create that sense of ritual when it feels like there is none?

It seems ironic with the happenings this year that this holiday’s roots are in re-birth after sacrifice.

So first, we must be willing to sacrifice. Sacrifice that extra trip to the store… sacrifice having all the food dishes and all the activities that we’ve had in years past, sacrifice some gifts, sacrifice sitting with and hugging our loved ones, knowing that that sacrifice leads to a greater good (remind you of anyone?… Our sacrifices sound pretty small next to his.)

And then we must search for another way… Another way to commune, another way to feast, another way to continue tradition.

My family is setting up a Zoom encounter to see one another tomorrow- to chat and perhaps even play one of our famous family games.

See my previous post on playing family games virtually: (Zoom, WhatsApp, Skype and the like, are amazing technologies that are FREE and can be downloaded on virtually any device. And they allow us to see one another, connect and commune, even if it’s in the virtual sense. So why not still get dressed-up and pick out a family game to play. Or, find the joy in being dressed-down this year, but enjoy each other’s company nonetheless.)

I’ve never had salmon for Easter. My brother always makes this amazing roasted leg of lamb and most of my family members have their signature dishes that they contribute-broccoli salad, homemade cakes and pies, maple bacon brussels sprouts, Jell-o salad… oh how I’m going to miss them! But salmon is the best meat I’ve got in the freezer right now and so I’m thankful to have it and for the reason to cook it. Honestly, it suddenly feels like the perfect choice to accompany the asparagus I have. And potatoes are a lock-down staple! No eggs though… I’m down to my last four. My mom has ham and is cooking for only two this year. So she’s going to do a porch drop off and share some with us. I wonder if others might consider sharing with their families and friends what they have as well…

As long as I have been a mother, I have always crafted Easter baskets for each of my children and filled them with loads of goodies. The “Easter bunny” hides them and on Easter morning, it’s a spring-time scavenger hunt to find their hidden treasures in the house. The Easter egg hunt comes later, when the family gathers and it’s held with all the cousins together.

I don’t have enough goodies to make individual baskets this year, much less to stuff eggs. That is partially due to what was available in the store and partially due to delayed shipments and finances. So I’ve settled on a family basket this year. We will search for it and enjoy it together. And instead of silly little toys, earbuds and socks, I managed to score two new family games to play at home, to replace the time we normally spend elsewhere.

And then we’re going to put in a family garden. It’s the season of fertility, after all.

Instead of dying eggs- because food conservation is a must, a dye kit isn’t worth it for four eggs, and quite frankly- my kids were never big fans of hard-boiled eggs anyway… we came up with a new idea! It started with my teenage daughter painting rocks to pass the time and then delivering “Smile!” eggs to neighbors as a random act of kindness. And now it has continued as an activity to recreate two time-honored traditions- dying and decorating eggs and the well-loved egg hunt.

This year, we are painting and hiding Stone Eggs!

We went on a family walk in the woods this morning, collecting rocks as we went.

Then we brought them home to wash and dry them.

And then we busted out our old paints and creative juices.

After they dried, we hand delivered them in a basket, to the yards and porches in the neighborhood. Little surprises left for the people around us. It’s like we got a turn at being the Easter bunny for once. I watched my almost 13 year old son, who is increasingly hard to excite these days, dart in and out of the yards to deliver our goods unseen, like a ninja… or an Easter bunny. On his face was pure joy and it shot straight to my heart. A perfect culmination of our day of family togetherness.

The irony that the eggs, a pagan symbol of fertility, are made of stone this year, like the stone rolled away from Jesus’s grave, didn’t escape me. I am a complicated bundle of everything that has made me who I am- loss of faith and a huge loving Catholic family all rolled together.

And I am at peace with that.

Just as I am at peace with this Easter unlike any other… an Easter where space might have divided us, but love kept us together. An Easter of sacrifice and giving to others. An Easter of new traditions created from old ones. An Easter of making do, of ingenuity and creativity, of grasping every bit of gratitude you can find and searching for goodness everywhere… even if it leads you to a neighbor’s porch, to a dried creek bed of rocks, to an empty tomb.

This is an of Easter with stone eggs.

There was another Easter that was very much unlike any other… it was the Easter that my grandmother died… read that post here:

Learning the meaning of Easter