Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Getting through the day was not as hard for me as I feared, (speaking only for myself). Maybe it was because I steeled myself for the “big day”… the first holiday… By “steeling myself”, I do not mean that I turned off my emotions. I mean that I prepared myself to accept whatever came, to fall apart or not. My default behavior is to try to make other people feel comfortable. I recognized this and decided I did not need to do this. I could let those around me deal with my emotions however they needed to. But the big emotional crash didn’t happen. To be sure, I thought of Kat often and I missed her terribly, but yesterday was not overwhelming for me.
Today, however, the grief feels particularly tender. I am not sure why. It has been two months since we walked her home and the date kind of sneaked up on me. I am sure the slower pace of the holiday weekend has played a part as well. For whatever reason, I am missing my baby girl. Sure, she was 26 years old, but she will always be my baby.
I have written before how this grieving process seems strange and unfamiliar. The unfamiliarity is mostly about how it comes when I least expect it. As time goes on, I am finding a familiarity too. I have felt these feelings before. Kat’s death is not my first loss. It is by far the most significant loss ever in my life. The feelings resulting from the loss of Kat are echos of much smaller, less significant losses. And why not, I am the same person I was. I did not change when Kat died so much as I became “more so”. The little things feel bigger. The irritations are more irritating. The time flies by quicker. The joys are more precious.
Seeing the view from the end of Kat’s life made the important things so much sharper for me. I still get lost in the daily activities of life, but I don’t stay lost for as long. I recognize the BS more quickly; the “important” have to’s and ought to’s. I am reminded that life is short and precious. May that awareness be ever present.