Wilt & Rise

So I forgot to come to work over spring break and water my mom’s flower…

As I sit here looking at it… It feels much like my grief.

I wilt, feel dry and wither towards the floor as I find myself sad and overwhelmed.

Then I am filled – with something – kindness from a friend, a hug from a sibling, a sense of care from our lost loved one – like water to a flower.

And then I rise.

And then I forget to water myself and I wilt.

And then I rise again.

Last week I was wilting.

This week I am rising.

Here’s to the process, not the result. Here’s to watering ourselves with love and kindness so that we may honor the wilting and find strength to rise.


2 thoughts on “Wilt & Rise

  1. It is not the same grief. But it is profound grief. As I much too quickly lose my mother’s memory of herself, my father, our family, I find the grief to be like a knife.
    “I can’t remember very much anymore,” she says.
    “That’s must be hard, Mom. I can remember. I call you to hear your voice. Just hearing you means so much to me.”
    “I love you.”
    “I love you.”
    I, too, have difficulty watering myself, taking care of myself. I have two brothers who do not think much of me, because I have been so sick for 28 years. So there is no one with whom to share memories.
    So I write. As often as I am able. I am the memory keeper. I cherish the possession of the experiences that painted a beautiful, complicated life and now slip into darkness.

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