Pink Octobers

Every October since my mother passed has been met with a twinge of pain in a sea of pink. My mother always wore her pink ribbon and walked in events like relay for life even in her walker. It has been five years of pink Octobers since I last embraced my fighter. I always thought that I would run a 5k every October in her memory. To be honest, I haven’t been able to yet. Grief is unknowable journey. It is not a list of “shoulds,” rather, it is doing what you need to be doing when you need to be doing it. Gentleness and self-compassion will be your best friends on this journey and if you have friends and family who understand those principles you are truly blessed. I am at a stage in my grief that I can write, I can look back on my mother’s journey and embrace the difficulty, the beauty, and the strength that contributed to who I am today. I am finally at a stage of peace among the pain in loss. 

Everyone has their loss, some of our loss is more visible than others. Some of us hide our loss out of shame, not realizing that loss connects us all as humans. But it only connects us if we talk about it. That is the hard part, we don't know how to talk about it. Loss makes us uncomfortable, it's painful, it's scary, and usually "inappropriate" dinner conversations. But the more we talk about loss and pain, the more we realize we all have a story of pain and loss. If we share (not compare) and  listen with empathy I believe we will find connection and maybe a little peace too. I write for myself, but at times I feel that I write for others too. I share to dispel stigmas, shame, and burdens that are not meant to be carried alone. So today I thought I would share my thoughts. I hope that you all know you are never alone. I may not understand the loss that you have suffered, but no one is a stranger to loss and pain. This unwelcomed guest of pain may even end up teachings us something about ourselves if we allow it.