It's strange to think it has been 5 years. It feels like forever and only yesterday all in the same breath.
I read an article today about grief and trauma and cellular memory. The author talked about losing her dad and the fact his diagnosis date was worse than his death date. She referred to this period as the dying season.
The dying season. That phrase struck a chord deep inside. The days from May 11th to July 11th are haunting and pensive for me. They've been that way since 2014. A dying season. And every year I tell myself that it will be different. I will be different.
But every year I experience a melancholy that seems unexplainable at first. It doesn't come the same way or on the same day. It creeps up and catches me off guard. I'm left wondering at the many emotions swirling about me. It feels chaotic and confusing. And then I see the calendar. And I understand. Or I begin to.
After my mom died, I found this quote written in her handwriting. "Perhaps strength doesn't reside in never having been broken, but in the courage required to grow strong in the broken places."
As much as I miss my mom, I am grateful for the things I've learned from losing her. I know she is involved in our lives. We've been blessed with sweet experiences to know she remains close to her family and loved ones.
Through my faith in my Savior Jesus Christ, my broken pieces have been put back together and mended. My grief doesn't mean an absence of faith and my faith doesn't mean an absence of grief. They exist together. In fact, my faith is stronger because of my grief. I thank my Heavenly Father for these trials and the strength I have received from Him in my brokenness.
Maybe it isn't a dying season but more of a broken season. And that's okay.
“Our Heavenly Father … knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.”
President Thomas S. Monson, “I Will Not Fail Thee, nor Forsake Thee,” Ensign, Nov. 2013, 87.
