My approach to daily living has been changed by the persistence of grief that has followed the loss of someone so deeply personal to me, that she went down the very roots of who I am. I’ve been through loss before and hard times, but nothing quite like the loss of my mother.
It has taken intentional action to catch my equilibrium as I adjust back into the chaos of my life. What I have found is that there glimpses of joy that flash all around our lives like fireflies in the Southern night sky. These glimpses are momentary and yet illuminating at the very same time. If I pay attention and seek the glimpses of joy they distract me from the heavy weight of grief that doggedly tugs downward on me.
In my grief I search for the glimpses of joy because I watched my mother do that very same thing in the heaviest of moments. She found laughter and the bright side of every occasion. I set out to follow her example because I know that my mother never would have wanted this loss to be the place in life that I stopped my momentum and stood still. She would have wanted me to move forward.
I had spent three weeks in which the world was a large as the space surrounding her hospital bed. After her death, I found rejoining my life already in progress to be like jumping on a carousal ride that was already spinning, bobbing and bouncing with lights flashing and music playing. It has taken some adjusting to get used to riding on the carousal of my life knowing that my mother isn’t coming around the corner any moment, and her voice won’t ever greet me again on the other side of my phone.
What I have learned in this space of grief is that even when your roots are pulled up that you can’t live your life unearthed. It takes great effort to replant — but it must be done — even if our bloom is different this Spring than it was last year.
And so each day I watch for the glimpses of joy that flash all around me. I am taking the time to relish in the joy of my children’s laughter, the dependability of my husband, my history still alive in my father, the familiarity of my chaos, the certainness of my faith, and the care of friends and family all around.
Some days are darker than others, but in those days the flashes of joy shine more brilliantly and take my breath away.
Grief is universal and we all go through seasons of struggle. What carries you through? What are your glimpses of joy?
Jan says
Kayla, For some reason, I’m up at 4:11 a.m. on 4/11/12. Funny. I’m looking at your blog and reading about your mom and you. I do not know you well, but what I know is, you have a grace and peace about you … that gives … as you move in and around people. I have been blessed, by the few moments I have known you. Hugs and prayers. I look forward to reading your book!
KaylaFioravanti says
Thank you Jan — that means a lot coming from a women that has so much grace and peace whenever I see you.
Bethany Learn says
Once again, your writing touches my heart. My mother is still here, and this makes me want to go “bloom” alongside her as much as I can before she’s gone, watching how she does things and taking in more nuances that will be sorely missed on day. Hugs!
KaylaFioravanti says
Thanks — and give your mom a big squeeze too.
Carolyn Hokkanen-Hawkins says
Thank you for sharing this, today, I needed to read this. I recently lost my beloved older brother. I will miss him a lot.
KaylaFioravanti says
The holidays and anniversaries are especially hard with loss. I will be thinking of you.
Donna Maria Coles Johnson says
This is exactly how I felt, and often still feel, when my father passed away. I remember after his funeral, sort of looking around my life and thinking, “You mean everything just keeps happening? It keeps going on as if he was still here? How can that be? How can I still have children and a business and friends and a life, and not have the man who made it all possible?” It was just surreal. I still cry and I still miss him so much, but at least now, it’s not all the time. My glimpses of joy where he is concerned are all of the fabulous memories I have of being with him. But more than that, just the absolute comfort of knowing how he loved me so unconditionally. I still feel it, and even though he’s not here physically, he still brings me great joy. Thanks for this post. xo
Kayla says
So true dM! Now that some time has passed my new glimpses of joy are memories of my mom. What a gift we both had in having parents who love and loved us unconditionally.