July and August

As a school teacher for many years summers were my haven. Finally letting go of the often tight reins of trying to juggle and keep so many balls up in the air. Two young children and caring for sometimes more than thirty children in my elementary class. My husband and I trading off who could stay home when the children were ill and which carpool needed to be driven. Months to exhale were what I always delighted in before I could feel my body alerting me to the fact that the school bells would soon be ringing.

Summer now feels different for me and it has for the past thirteen almost fourteen years. It was in mid July that my son, Douglas, took his last breath earth side and in August his first. It’s the one/two heart punch that is moved through and I must admit after his birthday I am grateful to know that I have eleven months in-between to steady myself. This is not anything I expect anyone to understand, yet to pause, to imagine if even for a nano second is what is so life giving to the one moving through these tender days.

My body knows when the calendar turns over from June to July and why it can still catch me off guard, I’m not sure why? I felt so very tired on the first of this month and I thought I had a good night’s rest and hadn’t really been involved in anything that would warrant such fatigue. “Oh, I recognize and I know you and how I wish I didn’t! However, to resist you makes me feel much worse, so I’m yours until I’m not and I get to choose that now as I’ve learned how.” This is what my inner dialogue often sounds like and it has allowed me the breadth and depth of my feelings, rather than trying to stuff them down or outrun them which have never worked out well for me.

Some years are often more tender than others and I don’t quite understand why, yet I’ve learned that I don’t have to know the why’s behind them and need to open my toolboxes that I have and poke around inside of them to grab what I’m needing in the now moment.

These days are as unique as our children are and how we choose to honor our children is just that as well. Whether it’s with an outing, a gathering, quietly, it matters not because our children are thought of daily, it’s just these days carry an energetic charge within them that is palpable.

So, this July and August I’m blessed to be retired, living in a climate that feels like summer all the time, so my body is a bit “tricked” by this. Meaning, my body signals that it feels like a regular day, yet my heart quickly chimes in and declares that it’s not. It does soften the reality a bit, yet these are not days that any parent should ever have to know, to ever have to think about, plan for and ultimately live into. Yet so many of us do and this does help me to not feel as isolated and alone on this island of loss that no one wants to have in their view much less visit. What means the most to me yearly is to have my peeps do a random act of kindness with Douglas in their hearts. A kind word, an overdue email, a call, inquiring how someone is feeling, showing up however we can knowing that it's always enough, more than enough.

Taking gentle care is something that lands on my heart always and everything that I can be doing to care for myself in the most loving of ways however that may look and feel is vital.

My surfing legs have gained the ability to ride this wave no matter how much I wish I didn’t have to. It will be waiting for me, I will catch the surf and ride it all the way to the sandy shoreline. If I topple off, that’s okay, I’ve learned how to climb back onto my board and just keep riding. No matter how wobbly I may feel, I can do it, because I have in the past and I will once again.