[Ascot]

In The Wasteland, TS Eliot wrote, "April is the cruelest month". I know he meant it for reasons other than I'm going to speak about here, but April is definitely a cruel month for me. Both my parents, whom I loved and respected deeply, passed away in April;my father when I was 15, and my mother four years ago. Their passings were quite sudden, my dad's without any warning, my mom's after an incredibly brief malady. While I suppose it's true that for them it was the best way to go, as anyone who's experienced a sudden loss knows, the ensuing wake leaves one reeling. There is a lot written about all the stages of grief, and the different ways we might or might not experience them. As a universal experience, I'm guessing there is also little that is more subjective. My father has been gone for more than twice as long as I knew him. My mother was younger than I am now when she lost him. She told me many times over the years how grateful she was that I was the kind of person I am, that I was so helpful in her struggle to keep carrying on. My brother was only seven at the time, so it was hugely important to both of us to maintain for him. Perhaps because it's been so long, and maybe also because I never got to know him when we were both adults, I don't anymore experience any pain when I think about my dad. Certainly I think about conversations and experiences we missed having together, but even those considerations, while they might make me a bit wistful, aren't unpleasant. I so wish I could say the same about my mom. It's only been four years, it's already been four years, it seems like ages and mere moments at the same time. When she died, I lost one of my best friends. I might've mentioned this before, but it is still the case that she gave me one of the best compliments I've ever received when she said, " A lot of people can make me laugh Lise, but you're the only one who makes me howl." After four years I feel I should have a better handle on this than I do. I make my way through my days, through the world, and for the most part, the façade holds. And then…then I have times when I miss her so keenly it takes my breath away. These moments are unbidden and so unexpected. I can be doing something totally banal, and am completely caught off guard when a tsunami of sadness tumbles me. Intellectually, I know this experience will eventually change for me. Emotionally, I can't wait for it to change.

As with so many things I write, I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I suppose what I really want to say is that I've learned a couple of things about grief. There is no incorrect way to experience it. Allow yourself to feel and think whatever you want or need to. Just be there for someone going through it. Truly, sometimes all that's needed is your presence. I don't ever laud a grieving person for being so strong in the face of it. When that was said to me as a
teenager, I realize in hindsight, that it became a great pressure to maintain that impression. It's a burden that ought not be put on anyone.