It’s getting to be late October and I have already started to have flashes of my November waves. Every fall, as the leaves change and weather cools, I start remembering. November is my son’s birthday. He would have been 6 this year. He would have a head full of yellow hair, like his little brother.
Oh, there they are. The overwhelming waves of grief, that wash over me regularly. The worst of the pain is remembered next month when I am flooded with November waves. Waves of memories of being pregnant with him, of finding out he was gone, of delivering him and the devastation that followed. Some days its waves of happiness remembering how much he changed in our lives. Some days it is waves of sadness so heavy my eyes can’t open without tears and sometimes waves of anger so thick I can’t breathe.
For years I thought the waves would subside. I thought eventually that I would be desensitized to the emotions. But I have found that the heart has an exceptional ability to cherish love and memories, no matter how painful they are. I cannot remember what I had for breakfast yesterday but I can remember what the air smelled like in my delivery room the night we arrived. I can remember what my nurse’s hands felt like holding mine, I can remember what I was wearing when they told me there was no longer a heartbeat. The heart remembers. The heart holds on.
I am thankful for my heart, I am thankful for the November waves. The only thing harder than remembering, would be to forget.
If you have suffered a loss or are in the throes of your grief, there is hope. Read more about how to deal with your own waves of grief. Please do not suffer alone. If you do not have support or someone to understand, I will understand. Email me: firstname.lastname@example.org