A Grieving Season
Dear Grievers,
The Summer-to-Fall transition always brings about a bit of a feeling of grief for me. The end of Summer, full of lazy days, vacations, and memories, gives way to a new beginning with the fresh school year, full of new schedules and priorities, often before I personally feel ready. Even if you don’t manage a kid’s school schedule, we are ingrained with this annual shift from being students ourselves growing up, and it’s tough to shake the ritual and nostalgia. I still feel compelled sometimes to purchase a new notebook every September, just because!
This year is especially challenging personally because my son is starting his freshman year of college. The excitement of a new school year is still ever-present, but this year it looks much different - he is not home. There’s no bus schedule to monitor, no lunches to pack (or lunch accounts to fund), and there’s no daily afternoon arrival through the door with stories of the day’s events. More than that, the laundry loads are fewer, the meals I cook are smaller, and the house is much, MUCH quieter (perhaps this is because my kid is a drummer, but you get the idea).
The overwhelming silence in the empty space feels way too loud, and I admit I find myself trying to fill those voids by texting, sending him memes, or checking his location (cringe). It’s fresh, this struggle, requiring daily (sometimes hourly) management. Triggers come out of nowhere. Hmmm… sounds a bit like grief, no?
Here are some things I tell myself when this grief hits:
This is a Grieving Season
In other words, this won’t last forever. It’s a change - life feels different, and I’m learning to navigate. It doesn’t mean I won’t make it through or figure it out. It simply means I’m in the middle of it right now.
The Only Way Through is Through
Suppressing my emotions - the anxiety, the sadness, the fear - is not moving me forward. When sadness hits, I allow myself to acknowledge it, to feel it… and it eventually passes. Emotions are the proof of love. Journaling helps.
My Experience isn’t Anyone Else’s Experience
My grief doesn’t look or feel the same as my co-parent’s, and my experience is definitely not the same as my son’s! My truth is my truth, but perspective matters and needs to be honored.
Memories are my Friends
The nostalgia of looking through old baby or school pictures, or scrolling the photos of recent summer vacations, is a balm for me in this season, the evidential comforts of 18 years full of love. An added bonus: looking at pictures of my own past when I was his age and starting college with all the excitement and anticipation of a new chapter.
Who Am I Now?
This is the big one. Grief fundamentally changes who we are. Learning to live without someone, whether they’ve passed away or they’re moving into a new phase of life without recurring presence in yours, can shake your foundation. Everything suddenly feels very different, and the agency that comes with grief is a heavy weight when you’re just trying not to be sad. But it can be a gift as well - the extra time I now have from the absence of day-to-day parenting responsibilities can be seen as an opportunity to spend more time reading, exercising, discovering new hobbies, chatting with friends, and figuring out generally who I want to be in this new era of my own life. Plus, there’s some solidarity in knowing that my son and I are living parallel journeys of discovery.
My dear griever, if you’re also living through this kind of life shift, take heart - you’re not alone and you’re allowed to say it’s hard. Name it, feel it, know it won’t last forever, and find a bit of gratitude in the grief. And if you need to talk to someone who gets it, I just might have some time on my hands.
Yours in Grief,
Erin