Changes of seasons, the biggest butt-kicker

The last couple days have been mighty weepy, and I'm realizing why. While of course certain dates are a challenge - anniversary, birthday, holidays, death day, first day of chemo, etc. - after 17 months since my Ned left with the tides, I know now it is the changes of seasons that hit me extra extra hard. When the wind shifts direction, the light changes, the air smells different, birds come to life or go silent, fire flies begin to emerge, and I relive how we'd revel in the shifts in our patterns - planting or harvesting, stacking wood, launching or hauling a little boat, opening the house or making cozy fires. New movements, shifting priorities - the dance of life together, the joy, the newness.

 

Carla, your description of how the change
of seasons affects grief, is poetic , as
always. I think I have seasonal disaffected
disorder . I feel manic at the beginning
of summer , warm weather , when the
tourists pack our small town. I felt
depressed when I was confined in my
apartment , in the cold, long, snowy
winter. I hope you pass this phase, and
can try to enjoy the short summer of
New England. Lou

 

Beautifully said. I had that feeling when the early spring bulbs came up…. Another season ahead without them. Feels like stepping into the void. ~B

 

I understand totally what you mean. Since these hot Summer days have started, blue skies and sunshine, neverending daylight, I can't help but constantly think about how me and my C would be taking care of our land, growing all those veggies, cherry picking, loading up firewood to prepare for the following winter, but also taking many breaks going for motorbike rides around our beautiful mountains which surround us here.
I get through this just by talking to my C and getting along trying to accomplish as much as possible as I learned so much from him about making decisions and solving problems and difficult situations.

 

Rose - I talked to my Ned all the time and the learning from each other thing was a big part of the glue between us, and remains so.