Sometimes, in order to find peace, you need to make changes, pause, and reflect. 

I’ve been journaling for a good part of my life, and sharing some of those journal pages here for the last three years.  Writing liberates me, and sharing with friends brings me joy.

The month of October was particularly hard for me on many levels, and I had to take a step back to focus on myself a little, breath, and heal.  It definitely helped, and by the end of the month (yesterday), I realized I had made the absolute right choice.  

October for me was a month of grief awareness for some reason.  My emotions, and feelings of loss were raw, and palpable.  I struggled, I struggled a lot.  I had many days where I’d come home from work in the evening and cried myself silly in the solitude of my car, and then, I’d wait inside my car in the garage until my tears dried, and I didn’t quite look like I had been crying.

It’s been 9 months since my dad died, and almost 9 months since my brother died, and somehow, I’m starting to feel shame for my tears, my tears that show emotion, loss, and intense grief, and I’ve realized that it’s all on me, I’m the one making assumptions, maybe I’m too hard on myself.  I’m always thinking, “gee, that person must think I should be over my grief by now.” I doubt that’s the case, because I know I’m blessed with compassionate human beings in my life.

Grief is such an intense emotion, one I never thought I’d come to be so familiar with.  I don’t like it, not one bit, and I’d give anything to go back in time, and try to “fix” things, and for life to be back to the normal we knew. But that’s just wishful thinking, and that will always be one of the hardest lessons of this grief journey. 

I thought life without my loved ones would get “easier” with time, that I’d learn to understand it better, and more importantly, to ACCEPT life at it is now.  The reality is, life gets harder, grief feels tougher, and the void is only deeper.  Why? Because with time, you realize the significance of their absence.  No milestones to celebrate, no conversations to be had, no last minute phone calls, or late night sharing of life.  As times goes by, you realize all the dreams they had, and all the projects they worked on for so long, now sit on a shelf, collecting dust, and only the “what if’s” are left.  Grief is incredibly HARD.  It’s painful, it’s human, and it’s so real.  

Grief is so intricate also, and I’d never come to fully understand it. 

When I think about all the losses my family has suffered this year, I also think about the way it’s touched each of us individually, and the only thing that makes sense about the fact that we are all dealing in such different way is, 1) we are all uniquely made, 2) we heal differently, 3) we all loved them differently, and had different relationships with each of them.

The other day I was really struggling thinking about the fact that my brother died alone, laying on a hospital bed, connected to endless machines, his death was so sudden, that no one was there to hold his hand and whisper in his ear, “we are here, and we love you.” People who knew nothing about his essence, people that only knew about his vital signs, and oxygen levels got to say goodbye, and I’m sure for them it wasn’t even a goodbye, it was another night at the hospital with many very sick covid patients.  I struggled thinking that my brother, someone who loved so deeply died… alone!!! Then, just as that awful thought invaded my mind, and my heart, another thought came to mind.  No, he didn’t die alone, not at all. 

My brother didn’t die alone.  My brother died with an army of people PRAYING for him, thinking of him constantly, and hoping he’d recover, and come back home to us.  He did go home, but not to the home we had hoped for, and that’s where I continue to pray one day I’ll understand, and accept fully. I’m working on it, it’s not easy, but I’m workin on it. 

I miss my dad dearly, I miss his wisdom, and his conversations, I miss his voice, but he lived a full life in every sense.  My brother’s death still makes no sense to me.  He was my baby brother after all. 

Grief and loss, loss and grief has certainly changed my perspective on life.  The things that used to occupy unnecessary space on my mind and heart, don’t anymore.  If I see or hear something I don’t like, I simply dismiss it, mute it, block it, and move on.  A broken garage door (although annoying), doesn’t take away my sleep anymore.  When you loose someone you deeply loved, life gives you perspective.

Things I’m still struggling with when it comes to my brother’s death:

💙 listening to his voice messages, or watching videos of him.

💙 looking at pictures of him.

💙 thinking of him.

💙 feeling like it isn’t real.

💙 understanding a future without him. 

💙 our last conversation.

Things I’m struggling with the grief that came from losing my dad and brother within three weeks of each other:

💙 not being able to write thank you notes to all the amazing friends and family members that supported us during that awful time, because by writing those thank you notes, I feel like I’m acknowledging the fact that they are gone forever.

💙 my faith.

💙 understanding relationships as a new me after loss. 

💙 learning about anxiety, something I never knew I’d come to learn about.

💙 feeling guilty.

💙 lacking motivation to do the things that I felt passionate about in my personal life before. 

💙 not explaining my own grief to others, or making apologies for my pain and tears.

💙 feelings of abandonment. 

Things I’m grateful for:

💛 anyone who has supported me through this journey, reached out when I least expected it, and who has shown up for me in this new season of my life. 

💛 my family.

💛 my faith.

💛 life. 

In this new season of my life, I’ve learned that denying what I feel, it’s not the way to heal.  The death of my loved ones has certainly rearranged the world for me, and has changed the way I see EVERYTHING.

I’ve also learned that there is no such a thing as “stages” of grief.  Grief is a complicated, mysterious MESS.  It comes and goes, and shows up when you least expect it.  There is no “graduating” from stage one, and moving onto stage two.  It doesn’t work that way.  Grief can’t be “fixed”, it can only be carried, and I am learning to walk my journey of life and faith with what I carry on my heart now. 

The month of October was particularly hard for our entire family.  Aside from dealing with grief, we’ve faced concerning health issues, and situations, and although I am glad the month of October is over, I’m also grateful for the many moments of grace that we were blessed with last month.  

Friendships, moments of laughter, work, words of wisdom from friends, hugs from loved ones, yummy Fall treats, cooler temperatures, and pretty trees changing colors. 

I was out to dinner with some friends a couple of weeks ago, and one of my friends said, “I have something for you.  My daughter was out and about the other day, and said, ‘mom, I found this, and thought of Maria right away, can you please give it to her?!’” ❤️

That sweet, and tender moment of care, and love could not have come at the most ideal time.  I actually cried a few tears when I opened the bag, because it reminded me of who I am, and what I am made of.  During my grief journey, I have struggled with my faith, a lot, and that has been very painful for me.  

When my brother was very ill, I prayed A LOT, I pleaded with God that he’d be cured, and back to us, I begged friends and family to pray for him as well, I’d shamelessly ask strangers to pray for my brother, I wanted to storm the heavens and intercede for my brother, and I did, and then I felt like I was betrayed, and forgotten. 

I was sharing with a church friend the other day how I felt about my faith and my relationship with God this year.  I said, “God and I broke up in February, but we are in the process of reconciling now, becoming close again, and giving our relationship a second chance.” 

It was that week when I received the cup in this blog page that I received this coffee cup from my sweet friend’s daughter.  I needed this message, I needed a new coffee cup that said, “don’t give up on the things you love doing and enjoy,” and most importantly, a message that said, you are loved, and never forgotten. 

My brother didn’t die alone.  My grief journey will never be something I feel ashame of.  I am actually loving this new me, a me, that sees the colors of this world with a different, and more polished lens.

There is an anonymous quote that I’ve had at the end of my signature in all work emails for a few years now that says, “the things you take for granted, someone else is praying for.” 

May we be kind, may we be kind, may we ALWAYS be kind. 💛

Here is to a month of November, filled with many blessings, joy filled moments, and most importantly, kindness.