It is Thanksgiving, the start of the time of year that is filled with reflections of joy and thanks, yet mine has a lining of sorrow. A few days ago, my grandfather passed away. A year ago, my mom passed away.
Grief- it changes you. It changes the way you think about life. It adds that extra element. With my thoughts of life, come thoughts of loss.
Grief over loss isn’t a lonesome journey, it is that of all who lost, though we all grieve differently. My feelings, including my grief, have a tendency to stay inside. I bottle things. Writing has become a wonderful outlet for me in the past year, because the loss of my mom was a big one. I often write fiction laced with fantasy and/or love, quite unrelated, but it carries bits and pieces of me in it. It lets me pour out some of the liquid in the bottle.
Writing with my blood as my ink (figuratively speaking), I have been able to sort out some of the things in my head. I realize my grief has made me more aware of the value of the people – our value is in the way we impact others. I see the impact my mom had on my life, and even when I look at my dad I think of all the wonderful things he has done for me. The person I am is the person my parents helped me to be.
So all I have to say is thank you Mom and Dad, for giving me everything I needed to grow, and leaving pieces of yourselves in me. Even when you are gone, your memory and your legacy stay with me in my blood, my mind, and in my soul. I see you when I look in the mirror, I hear your voice when I make decisions, and I feel your presence when I act on your example each and every day. These things you carried from your parents- so my grandparents (and so on and so forth) are a part of me too. I am proud of who I am, because I am you.