Springtime is not Kind

Today is the first official day of spring. Blessed Alban Eilir (or Ostara, or Spring Equinox if you prefer).

I’ve returned from my little hiatus; my mom and stepdad have gone home. While they were here, we lost an uncle on my father’s side after a long battle with cancer (melanoma).

I can’t do this wonderful man justice with words, so I won’t try here, but the loss has hit me even harder than I thought it would. Everyone knew he was ill, but even when a death is expected, it tears a painful hole. I am relieved that he doesn’t have to suffer now, but so heartbroken for his son and daughter, for my aunt, and, selfishly, for myself.

Even if we don’t get to spend a lot of time with certain people — and living 1400+ miles from my relatives ensures that I don’t, since I have little money for travel — just knowing they’re there, feeling that unbroken thread of relatedness and connection, gives us strength and security. Some people are unwavering streams of “You can do this and you have people behind you who support you” just by being present in our lives, no matter how distantly at times.

And when they’re gone, that stream doesn’t babble to you as loudly and reassuringly as before. The thread seems thinner (I don’t believe that death severs us from our loved ones; it just makes feeling the connection more difficult).

It hurts. He was so good and kind and funny and amazing. I will be glad to see him again someday (hopefully far from now) in the Summerlands.

This week was extra-draining, trying to entertain and be “on” for my guests while howling with grief on the inside. In a way, I think it’s good they were here, because having to keep moving is sometimes helpful in sad times.

Springtime has typically been when I have lost loved ones. Both of my grandmothers left in spring also. It’s such a strange juxtaposition, the sorrow and mourning amidst the new blossoms and greenness all around.

Maybe it’s life’s way of reminding me that it’s all a circle, and that it’s ok that the Wheel keeps turning — I can find comfort in the steady cycles of the seasons when my heart aches.