Changes in Life's Seasons: Healing From the Loss

Daddy died four years ago tomorrow. It feels like it was yesterday, and it feels like it was twenty years ago both at the same time. I’m always sure to put out new decorations on his grave for fall, even if I skip other seasons or holidays. I just associate the season with him. That’s both a blessing and a curse.

Daddy was born in the fall. So, we celebrated not only Halloween and Thanksgiving, but his birthday as well. We celebrated his 70th birthday in 2012 with him wearing a sombrero on his head and whipped cream and a smile on his face. In 2015, we added the day he had a brain hemorrhage that forever altered our course. In 2016, we added his death to the dates that fell in autumn.

Visiting Daddy's grave

We went last week and knocked the dust off of the black stone engraved with a deer scene. The decorations that had faded in the summer sun were thrown into a pile as we went to work. We wrapped the base in a garland of red and orange leaves, and added a metal truck with a pumpkin in the back. The “Love You to the Moon” stepping stone was placed back in its spot. The flowers whose petals had held on through the passing season were scooped up and carried off. In true fall fashion, it was time for a change.

Change isn't easy

Changes aren’t always as easy as this “out with the old and in with the new” approach. Sometimes what is old is familiar and easy. Sometimes what’s new is scary and uncomfortable. For Daddy, the biggest change was quick and unpleasant. He went from wandering the leaf-strewn yard with the dogs on his own to being entirely dependent in an instant.

Daddy didn’t have a slow descent into the next season of his life. We didn’t watch as the metaphorical leaves floated down to earth one by one. We stared in shock and disbelief as every leaf in the grove hit the forest floor simultaneously without so much as a hint of a stiff breeze. I feel like we stood in that spot until we lost him the following year. Sometimes I still feel like we’re there waiting for an explanation of what we witnessed.

Healing from the loss of a loved one

I saw something last week that said when you can talk about something without crying, you have healed from it. Sometimes I can talk about it without crying. Sometimes I can’t. I don’t think you ever really heal from something like losing a parent, and I don’t know that you ever really get over a parent having dementia or Alzheimer’s disease.

I don’t think it’s the kind of season that will ever really pass. As for Daddy, though, I like to think that the end of his season here on Earth was followed by one on another plane. A season filled with endless drifting leaves, 65-degree weather, homemade Halloween candy like our neighbor always made, and a little bit of whipped cream, and a smile on his face.