Two days ago was Christmas. Yesterday was the six month anniversary (death-a-ver-sary?) of Dad leaving this realm. As expected, as all the grief blogs and books and people tell you, the days and weeks leading up to the holidays were tough. While I had spent a handful of Thanksgivings at my parents since moving out, I had not been for Christmas since 1998 – about one week before getting engaged. So it wasn’t so much the idea of not being home for Christmas. I hadn’t been home for that in many years. But it was the first Christmas where I would not have a cheerful phone conversation with him. Or any conversation. In fact, we have now passed the sad hallmark where I’ve gone the longest I have ever gone without hearing his voice. I think 3 months was the record before he passed. It’s more so all the little things that I remember about Christmas growing up, and how my parents made them so special. All the little things which make up the love that shapes who you are.

Last night I dreamed about Dad, for the first time since he passed. It was funny because I woke up to go to the bathroom, thinking about “just” the dream and not realizing that it was “DAD! OMG DAD CAME TO VISIT ME!” until I had gotten back into bed. My mom was in the dream, too. As per usual, the details faded almost immediately upon awaking but what I do remember was they were trying to give me directions to someplace. As I started to walk away, Dad called me back. He was wearing a suit and tie. I am very excited about and encouraged by the dream, and I hope this means he will come back often. I also wonder if my mom being there had some kind of special significance, as though perhaps she is getting ready to join him. (her cancer prognosis remains unclear at this time)

I have a friend who lost her dad just days ago, on Christmas Eve. Despite my own experience six months ago, I couldn’t think of anything useful to say to her. Death happens every day. But for the one who is left behind, the grieving process has a unique fingerprint for us all.

I have a friend who lost her husband about 15 months ago. She’s on an extended trip down south, her own personal “Here Comes the Sun” tour. I’ve learned a lot from her about grace and dealing with grief, as well as knowing how to show up for those who are grieving. I need to plan my own tour, hopefully before my kids graduate from high school.

I have two cousins who lost their mom, my aunt and my dad’s baby sister, seven years ago. I have two other cousins who lost their dad (my dad’s brother in law) nine years ago. I am not alone, and yet I am.

May 2020 bring more sun, fewer shadows for us all.

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com