Passage Through Grief

Over and over, I feel so blessed to get to write with “The Lovelies”;  the group of women that gather at our dining room table to laugh, write, drink tea, pass tissues and share stories of love, travel, adventure, childhood, loss and life.  Somehow it all gets validated as we write.  Somehow it all gets put into perspective.  Somehow it all feels manageable in the sharing.
At the beginning of this writing session we wrote our ‘snapshots of 2015’ (the kaleidoscope of memories from the year we have just left behind)  For me, having lost my mom at the end of 2014, it was a year of passage.  These are the words that came out from that evening of writing together.
This year.  Passage through grief.
May.  Vallée Junction. 
I turned my head to the sky, held back tears, followed the clouds, hoping my mother would hear.
Words of goodbye.
Images of butterflies.  Her time here done.  Struggle over.
“Kiss me mother, kiss your darlings, lay your head upon my breast, throw your loving arms around me, I am weary. Let me rest”
Eyes to the sky to keep singing. 
Can’t look at Uncle Michel or Aunt Celine.  Can’t allow myself to see the tears rolling down my baby brothers face, my cousins red eyes.