Like so many of you, spring is my favorite season.
I love to garden. I love to go my local nurseries, see what new colors they have in pansies this year. I love the sun (and no, I'm not good about sunblock, though I counsel my patients to be.) I love the warmth, and would prefer to have the house open and a fresh breeze than the AC on. Who doesn't love spring?
Last year I didn't love spring. It was still warm, breezy, beautiful, but I didn't enjoy it. At all. I wasn't surprised, things were still too fresh, obviously. The things that I normally take great pleasure in, particularly gardening, were a chore to me. I did them poorly and half-heartedly. I was still emotionally hemorrhaging, going through the motions of life because I didn't know what else to do to distract myself.
In retrospect, I've had a rough few weeks. It's odd to me that I have such difficulty recognizing my grief cycles, until I'm looking back on them. And it's so strange to feel COMPLETELY out of control of them. I truly do not feel like I can "pull out" of a down cycle thru my own volition. Grief happens to me. I think that's where my last post was born; my sense of lack of control is frustrating to me.
But last week, one day I woke up and it was gone. It was there when I went to bed, and simply gone in the morning. I was energetic, positive thinking, engaged, all before I hit the shower. And it's a short walk from the bed to the shower. Since then, I've felt great. I've had some difficult moments, cried some, missed Henry a lot, but it was all from such a different perspective than where I was just a week ago. Last week I was considering putting away some pictures of him since they pained me when his eyes caught me off guard. This week the same pictures are making me smile.
Another grief lesson learned, I guess. But I'm glad that I'm enjoying spring.