The time just keeps on passing....

The holiday season is here. Thanksgiving arrived with the gift of grief. I always think, "Oh I'm prepared for this. I got it handled." Ha-ha! Grief must love those phrases. As if we can control when it rises and shakes the earthly foundation of what we think our day will look like. With the time passing and the grief abating for longer periods of time, I forget the punch that it announces itself with.

So what does grief hand me these days? Many, many memories. They come in with all senses. Remembering the smell of the house with day long cooking, the sounds of many conversations going on at once, glasses being refilled, family members chiding each other over past shenanigans. The feeling of being so full from overeating. Taking dance breaks to do some jitterbugging or whatever to whoever's music is playing at that time. The sight of so many dishes after eating. All of us women in the kitchen cleaning, chatting and sometimes when we were younger, singing songs. I remember noise and mom trying to focus on whatever cooking endeavor needed attention. At age 52, there are so many memories to choose from. I'm blessed with a long family life of grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles and whoever we all brought along for the holiday season.

My mom loved the holidays! She loved the feeling of family coming together. She loved the ritual of getting the house cleaned, the shopping and planning for the meal. She worried herself into exhaustion over the success of the gathering. If I could change anything in my past, it would be to take away my mother's worries about things turning out. It all turns out, no matter what the result. It all turns out in some way. Whether I like how it turns out is another discussion.

But for now, I am honoring grief's punch during this season and giving my memories its due time. This won't be a Christmas season so much for me but a Christmas season for my mother's memories and desires for a wonderful and loving time with her family.