The Process of Mourning

It has been a tough couple of weeks. My Mom's birthday was late last month, and last Sunday was Mother's Day. We are still in the first year of her sudden passing, and there are still lots of "First Withouts" to get through. Thanksgiving and Christmas were hard, but her birthday and Mother's Day were surprisingly more difficult. In the past couple of weeks I have burst into tears more often than in the month after she died. Even when I am outwardly calm, deep inside I feel like I am bawling.

My Mom thoroughly hated winter, and rejoiced in spring. Now when I look at a flowering redbud or crabapple tree, when I see the tulips opening and the peonies emerging, I think of her and my eyes get wet. I can only have a one way conversation with her now about what's up and planning the garden. It isn't very satisfying.

I spent Mother's Day getting my garden ready with lots of help from my husband and two boys. It's what I always do, and what my mother always did, and I like to think I felt her presence.

Mourning is a process, but it isn't even and it doesn't have an end. When I was in college, I did undergraduate work with a long term bereavement study with the university focused on how young children mourn the death of a parent. We interviewed families with children at 3 months, 6 months, 12 months and 24 months after death. It was a pretty intense interview we put them through about 2 hours in length measuring their mental state. The families were also put through physicals and bloodwork to measure their immune systems, neurological responses and other physiological markers. It was found that immune systems can suffer, clumsiness is more likely, and cognition is affected. Mourning effects the whole body, mentally and physically. What was found in the study is that there is a wide range of behaviors and experiences that fall within the bounds of normal.

It's also normal for mourning to become more intense, and then wane. Sometimes it can be like being on a roller coaster with high highs and low lows. Eventually, it evens out somewhat.

I know I am firmly within the bounds of normal, healthy mourning. It doesn't stop it from being sometimes overwhelming and even a little embarrassing. Last weekend I was at the mall in the Aveda store, and I was offered a complementary neck and shoulder massage. (I never turn that down.) Across from me a woman and her mother were sampling items and bickering playfully, the daughter encouraging her mother to get whatever she wanted, the mother protesting she really didn't need anything. It was so sweet, I started to weep, and I ended up distressing the fellow who was giving me the neck rub. I had to get myself under control enough to let him know he didn't hurt me and what my tears were about. Then I had to make a hasty exit from the store. I walked around looking down and got myself settled down. Then I had to laugh when a guy at one of the skin cream kiosks in the middle of the mall tried to flag me down with, "Hey miss, what are you doing about those bags under your eyes?" (I mean really!!!! What nerve! What a dreadful sales technique!)

So, I'm riding the ride. I'm grateful to be feeling anything at all, but I look forward to the day when I am more intergrated with this process.

Compost

It's not a secret. I garden.

I can't keep a manicure, I always have dirt under my nails for at least 5 months of the year. I have a tan on my back only were my shirt rides up when I bend over to weed.

I grow a little bit of everything in my 30' by 50' garden, and I keep it all mixed up so pests don't know what to go after. I use no chemicals, no fertilizers, just compost. Weeds happen. A lot. To the naked eye, it looks like a mess, but inside it is one huge cornucopia of unusual edibles. Some of the edibles are weeds.

This month I wrote my first article for the local Sierra Club chapter on the topic outdoor home composting. They really liked it, so I will probably be writing some more for them. It probably wouldn't be too cool to publish it here even though it was not with any agreement of exclusivity, but I will just brag about it a tiny bit.