It is a fickle and funny “friend.” I have found in the years that follow the initial loss that it has ebbed and flowed.
Sometimes an anchor, steadfast and strong, that threatens to capsize a ship in a storm.
Other times it is a bright and sharp stab, a flash of lightning that sears and also has a brilliance of what was, for the briefest moment in time.
Then, too, it can be floral and soft. A bloom that reminds of the beauty, of life and joy, that comes around once a year and then lies dormant until the next season.
This year, this season, my grief is the bloom.
Today I remember two women, from two different families, both of whom loved me and my brother. Both of whom wanted great things for us and our lives. Both of whom had their own struggles, who went about loving us their own ways, and who helped us create the paths we have followed thus far.
I believe the roles they held in our lives will continue to guide us, and help us shape our future. Even when the bloom of this season has faded away.