Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Tag: #easter

An Easter Message from Heaven

March 31, 2024 /

In our family, Easter is another excuse to gather.  It includes traditions; my daughter still insists on an egg hunt. We try new things. This year the highlighted cocktail is a ‘bunny mary’ (same as a bloody mary but with carrot juice!).  I am sure Zane would approve.  It is a fun, light-hearted and simple holiday but with a deep message. It kicks off the season to warmer days and the fresh smells of rain. It represents natures message of new beginnings and religions message of the same, to live fully, the life we are blessed with.

One of my like-life visits from Zane, after he was killed, was he came bouncing up the stairs to greet me, wearing a bright blue jacket. He ran into my room, grinning from ear to ear. I hugged him and squealed, “you’re alive, you’re alive…” and he smiled and then melted onto the rug as I screamed, “come back!” I have never forgotten that dream.  It felt so real, and it came at Easter.

The following Easter, I dreamt I had come into the room and Zane was at the end of a table, sorting eggs & treats. I asked what he was up to, and he replied, “It’s Easter, we must get ready.” He seemed content sorting out the different Easter symbols. I woke, disturbed, wondering what I was to be ready for. And each year since, I have had Zane visit at Easter with a similar message. It wasn’t until this year I started considering any underlining significance of these visits when my father came with Zane to tell me, point blank, watch out, for this is a season where things happen. Subtle, but important things.

We have a lot of birthdays around this season. My father passed away at Easter. The kids’ first pet arrived at Easter. We have had friends die at this time of year. Why was my father accompanying Zane this time.  In this dream, according to my father, I have not been paying attention.  He needed to come with Zane to set me straight!  So typical of dear old dad.

My belief that spring is the season to bring into play your best self was something I learned from my family and shared with my children. I am sure my father and son’s awareness of my constant go-go-go, my total disregard for what ails me, and lately, my scary high blood pressure, has them rolling their eyes and shaking their finger at me as does my earthly family. I know this sounds so far out there but I could feel the two of them sitting next to me. Telling me to take some of my own advice!

The Easter visits, the vividness of Zane’s physical body coming through slumber has brought an annual message of hope, of confirmation he is still here, of how he is aware of what we are all doing. And possibly a telling of how he wants more for me. On earth, Zane would joke about my self-care by giving me a hug or a loving slap on the shoulder and say, “don’t die on me yet, mama”. Easter’s message of renewed life and how faith and hope bring this about for all of us, is the reminder my son has been bringing to me each year. An assurance that they are with us and that they want the best for us.

Oh, how the holidays he knows I care for make me miss him more.  His appearances as I sleep reflect the communications he had when he lived here. This one I can hear him say, “It’s spring mama, take care of you.”

The Message of Easter Spring

April 9, 2023 /

It was Easter that both my Godfather and father died. The next Easter weekend we bought the kids a lop-eared dwarf bunny. Zane said, “we should call him Sensei.” I said, “well, let’s see if he likes that name” to which Zane replied, “why wouldn’t he?” So, Sensei bunny became a member of our family for 9 years. The Easter season seems to bring to our family entrances and exits.

Dear Zane:

Remember how much you enjoyed Easter? Do you remember how excited you were each Easter to find the hidden chocolate and presents? Payton still does this, every year. Roydon now hides eggs all over their condo. He does a great job.  They have enough candy to last them the year!  I do my own version of a scavenger hunt for her. I remember you telling me that you were done with Easter egg hunts but let’s pretend you aren’t because Payton likes them still. Always the big brother.

The Easter after you left, you visited me in a dream. You told me Easter brings with it a magic. I must pay attention to this season. It has meaning. And each year I have thought of that, waiting for something to occur that would make sense. I might have missed things in the past, but this year, the meaning shouted at me.

As you know we lost two more of our tribe this season. The grief has drained each of us and our plans to soldier on were cancelled by Universal influence to slow down and just huddle together this year. And this has brought an awareness, I know now what you meant. This is what you came to tell me in my early grief. Your message, a reminder of the meaning of Easter. The message that gives us faith and hope and strength. The message you knew I needed. And still do. The meaning of Easter is simply, those we love do not die.

Easter brings with it the guarantee of warmer days. You were joyous about this as it meant to you that patio drinking season was nearby.  The Easter season brings with it all the magic of rebirth, all the signs that life goes on. All the sights of energy revitalizing. This is perhaps why you loved spring on a spiritual level.  It truly is a special time of the year whatever your religious beliefs are. Boiled down, Easter is the promise that life carries on. Thanks for the message.

The Arrival of Spring

April 17, 2022 /

Easter announces that spring is here. The season that hints of longer, warmer days to arrive. The season of restlessness and the question of ‘what else’ might we do.  There is a magic about spring, no wonder this season is a favorite for poetry.

Our family enjoys poetry, reading and writing it. Putting your feelings into a flow of stanzas helps clarify feelings and may resonate with others in a way that simple conversations cannot.  I read about the healing power of putting your words into poetic form. Try to express your feelings in haiku fashion or summarize an experience in only 6 words for impact. You need not be Robert Frost or Sylvia Path (although both are inspiring to read!)

Zane would choose to write poems in English and Spanish. One of his poems was a request from a mother who had lost her son to a drug overdose. I’ll save that poem for another time. Today, with the sun shining and the blue sky covering us, I wanted to share one of mine.

Mother Spring

The buds on the trees, bursting to open,
clouds float by, their miscellaneous shapes
forming soft notes to those below
birds chirp as they gather
to build the family nest…

Spring demonstrates, the cycle of life continues
ready or not, here she comes
with her canvas of colors
to be seen in due time
Her gentle teardrops falling
cleansing the dirt of the winter dead

She brings with her evidence that hope is here
in the quiet morning dew
and the crisp mountain air
She puts in front of us
a kaleidoscope of tiny miracles
whispering to witness her magic.

all that we see, touch, hear and do
connects us to her bigger picture-
that of the moon and the heavens
where many of our own
shine down in twinkling lights.

Her energy is of peace, of love
letting us sense this other realm,
which is invisible to the earthly eye
it can only be seen, experienced
with a broken heart.

feathers fall in our path,
butterflies, dragonflies, wildlife visitors,
she sends with tiny messages on their backs
assuring us, life is a perennial cycle
of rebirth, of eternal connections
that reach across space and time
to those we love and miss.

Take this season to open your journal and pour your heart out in verse.  It is therapeutic. It is good mourning.

Plan for no More

April 4, 2021 /

There is something about knowing it is your last time. As we continue to prep to sell our home, I realized that this Easter will be our last one here. Suddenly it becomes very nostalgic. Each thought around what to serve, how the table will look, what could we do extra consumes my thoughts.  And memories of Easters past come back to visit me.

We had years of egg hunts in this home, always ending up in the laundry room where the ‘big prize’ was hidden in the laundry chute. Friends and family would gather around our table, living out Zane’s definition of happiness; good food, good drink and good company.  We have been blessed.

I have kept our Easter traditions since the crash but with new twists. I make Easter bags to share with friends and family which now include a tube of bubbles to honor Zane. My daughter and I still dye eggs, with one, a bright blue for Zane. This ‘last time’ melancholy encourages me to look at this holiday and ask myself, what do I want this Easter to be? The last Easter in my children’s home.

We often say, “Oh, if only I had known it was the last time.  If only I had one more time.” Why don’t we treat each celebration, even each day, like it might be our last?  In the daily hustle, it is hard to slow down enough to think it might be the last time. We believe there will be more, many more, or at least one more.   But we have learned in the most tragic of ways and now we know better, there is never a guarantee for ‘One more’.

I encourage you this year, as holidays and special occasions arrive to treat them like the last time. Slow down to think about past times and traditions built around each one.  Consider ways to do things different or new or what might you always want the same. With each holiday, think of ways you can honor and include our children who are celebrating with us from a different realm. Acknowledging that each celebration may just be the last time does not have to be depressing. In fact, it can be the fuel to invite gratitude into our lives.  And that is good mourning.

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