One of the things that makes our people “our people,” is the million things we know about them that few / no one knew, and – as importantly, the million things they knew about us that no one else knew. We were also “each other’s people” because of the special 1:1 memories we had, the countless endless jokes, knowing each other better than we knew ourselves, knowing what the other needs without having to ask, etc. When I think about “my people,” I do not only think of a romantic partner, I think of all the incredibly significant relationships in my life – most notably, my Mother.
I often talk about the depth and the different layers of losing someone, with friends who have also experienced a major loss. In addition to the multiple losses that accompanies a death, you lose all the future plans and anticipated memories. I thought of this recently when St. Patrick’s Day came and went. Once my immigrant Mom tasted corned beef and cabbage, she made the traditional Irish dish every St. P Day. Sometimes I would eat with my parents, sometimes she would pack it up and tell me to pick it up from their house on my way home from work. The feeling of nostalgia and sadness of never experiencing this moment again surprised me on St. P Day, when I got ready for bed, and there was a lingering feeling of, “something did not happen today that was supposed to.” It was a heartbreaking feeling of lack of closure and resolution.
It’s these “little” random holidays that often hit me the most. Lynn and I never spent Christmas together, opting instead to spend it with out respective families. But, the lesser known “holidays” do not pass by without remembering their past memories. And, they are the holidays that no one would think I am feeling a little extra grief, sadness, or bittersweetness. World AIDS Day, the weekend of Thanksgiving, Earth Day to name a few…
Similarly, there is a tinge of pain when special places close, and I have to say goodbye on my own. A longtime, 36 year old Italian restaurant in town where Lynn and I had our first date closed in 2019. I had to go one last time, and it was so bittersweet trying to have one last memory there. I called on Lynn’s spirit to join me, and I thanked the restaurant for hosting a couple’s first of many meals, and of being the backdrop of a beautiful memory. The other day, I passed by an iconic restaurant in town that is closing after 46 years. While I have a few memories there, my strongest memories are of dropping my Mom off to join the ladies for their Lunch. I took a picture of workers taking the high sign down, and I immediately wanted to share it with my Mom.
Of course, this can open me up to another layer of loss…
The first Valentines after Lynn passed, I had a cozy fish and chips Valentine’s lunch with my parents. It helped a ton, and every year I looked forward to enjoying a Valentine’s meal with them. Since my Mom’s passing, I now grieve and miss THAT ritual…
