Tertiary Mourning, Part Deux

I hope you breathe a sigh of relief as I spare you any more pithy comments. (At least for awhile.) It’s been very hectic between work (cold, flu, pneumonia, and RSV season) and the holidays. We still need to put the house back together after painting, attack the Mount Everest of laundry, start holiday food shopping and cooking, gift wrapping, and decorating. Our artificial tree is still safely ensconced in its’ box in the garage. Does the term “Deep Weeds” come to mind? It does for me. I was talking with my husband and we’re both fatalistic about it all. I mean what’s the point? It’s kind of like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic and it takes away that we are blessed, thankful, and appreciative of our abundance.

There is sadness and sweetness of the season IRL and in blogland. I still have been ruminating over “Tertiary mourning” and how it changed and touched me as both a giver and recipient of this type of authentic and unexpected caring.

Twenty two years ago, I was a witness of tertiary mourning when I watched my mother embrace another mother, a stranger, who also lost her much loved and missed child. The beauty and terrible grace of that moment lives within me still.

It opened my heart and mind to the power of this gift, a simple embrace, an acknowledgement. My mother at that moment, was and still is, extraordinarily brave. I think when we reach out to provide comfort we honor our lost loves. I thank her for her example by not being afraid to be present during grief.

I know her son, my brother is proud.