On Monday, August, 10th would have been my mom’s birthday. Another “anniversary” that I was dreading all weekend. These have always been hard. I fall apart on the 15th of the month, the day that she passed. Every month since January, I fall apart. August and September were even more of dread because of my mom’s birthday, eight months since her passing, and my parent’s anniversary. Geez, who can deal with all that one after another?
I had something different at my disposal this time, and it had an unexpected effect on what happened on Monday. I am by no means getting paid to promote this, but Shelby Forsythia’s Permission to Grieve became my guiding light. I am still new to giving myself permission to grief for the loss of my mom, but I was invested. I listen to her words in the book and the stories on her podcast Coming Back. I had begun over the weekend to give my grief room. To understand that it is okay to be in pain and never let go of your grief, it is a part of you. I am also learning to live in the present and stop the constant need to overthink every situation. It was the perfect storm of beginning my grieving process and the day that I dreaded.
I decided to let it go. The idea that I had to have a bad day. I felt the feels. When I needed to cry, I did, and it was empowering. I ran three miles on the treadmill while listening to Forsythia, and it just flowed. I didn’t set a goal like “I need to run three miles to be happy today.” I instead ran three miles because every moment I was in the present moment of the treadmill and the podcast. I had no worries about the thoughts that often attack me when I am doing something. My day was full of things that made me happy. Getting dinner from my brother from another mother. Being around the people that make me happy. Spending time with a kindred spirit. I didn’t do all these things because I had to, I did them because it was what I wanted to do. I took the ego out, and I just flowed through my day.
Letting go of all the thoughts that made me feel bad was freeing. I was smiled, even in pain. I allowed myself to let go of the ego, the identity of the grieving son, and I just allowed myself to be. I adopted the idea from the song “if it’s mean to be it will be.” I am not enlightened; instead, I found that I could exist within my grief. I was grieving but finding myself within what could be a healthy way of grieving. That is not to say that the pain was not there, but I took it into my day, and I made it my own. I gave myself permission to grieve, and I saw for the first time what that meant.
That is not to say that the anniversaries will always be something I get through. One of the great things about what I am learning through authors like Forsythia and Tolle is that I can let go of the identity that comes with the grieving son. Instead, focus on being in the now. I can begin to heal and still feel the feels. I healed a small piece of the grand puzzle that is grieving. I know I will always miss my mother, and she is always on my mind, but I could feel more of her love for her family and friends by allowing the space to grieve. It was in so many ways a different day. Stay strong in the fight.
Always Keep Fighting
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