Loss & Acceptance: 1 Year Later

I sat down to write Simple Joys of the Week this morning, and instead, found myself writing this post. 

I realized that it just doesn't feel right to share my SJOTW without first talking about what is weighing heavily on my mind today--the fact that today is the 1 year anniversary of when we lost my stepmom, Anita, to Ovarian Cancer. 

It feels really weird that it's been a year (It's already been that long? She hasn't been with us for an entire year?) and yet, the at the same time, the days that we spent in hospice with her, saying goodbye, feels like a lifetime ago. 

I know that if she were still alive, Anita would already be planning a trip up to Cape Cod to see our new place. She would be discussing all of the things that we would do together, what she wanted to see, and dreaming about the vacation home that she and my Dad would buy up here, so that they could be close to us and their [eventual] grandkids.

I get really sad when I realize that she'll never see our new home, our new town, our new life here in New England, as I know that she would just love it. She was always a big fan of nature, of quiet, of the beach, of being surrounded by big, beautiful trees, and I know she would feel right at home the moment that she arrived. 

Always an incredible supporter of the USPS, Anita sent me letters and/or packages on almost a weekly basis throughout my entire life. When I was younger, they came to my mom's house, and as I grew older, they came to college, then France, then college again, then NYC, and eventually, to DC. Even when she was really sick, she would use some of her {little} energy to lug art books, or magazines, or little creative gifts over the the post office, to ship them out to me with a sweet note. I always knew she was thinking of me when I would open my mailbox and receive a package slip an actual package, or a letter thick with pages. 

In a way, I think that a very small part of me still expects to open my mailbox here on the Cape, and find an envelope with her perfect script on it, a cute sticker or two, and a return address of "Rainbow's End" in Atlanta (what she always wrote above their address). 

That's the funny thing about loss. The person still feels so close to you, so present, so real, even though they no longer exist in your daily life. 

Obviously, this is something I'm still working through, but I guess I just wanted to acknowledge her today. I miss her very much, and this past year has been a learning experience for me, one in which I have discovered what it feels like to return to living after a big loss.

This reminds me, I read an incredibly inspiring (and heartbreaking) article yesterday, entitled The Long Road Back: How to Keep Going After the Unimaginable Happens. The writer loses her three children and parents all at once, and discusses her experience trying to rebuild her life after this horrific incident. It's an incredible story of strength and perseverance, and it really does put things into perspective.

I'll be thinking of Anita today, focusing on cultivating a sense of gratitude for the years that I was able to spend with her, and all that I learned from her. 

I hope that you, too, can connect with a sense of gratitude and acceptance today, wherever you are on your life journey...