Four years. It’s been four years since I’ve seen my mother’s face. Four years since the hugs, the calls, the moments and the memory making. Four years since the last laugh and the final conversation. It’s been four years since she left this world.
Four years of being an entirely different person with empty spaces and silent longing. Four years since the moment that her last breath escaped.
It’s been four years of marking death anniversaries on the calendar. Four years of forced growth and unwanted change. Four years of heartbreak and four years of grief.
This year, I’m working intentionally to change my perspective. I’m changing the angle at which I allow my heart and mind to drift and wonder. I’m choosing the successes of these four years instead of the trauma and the devastation of what this day signifies.
I must remember that while she’s been gone four long years, I’ve also survived four long years. At the beginning I wasn’t sure I’d last four days or even four minutes, but here I am. This is not just the anniversary of the day she left but also the anniversary of the day I survived.
Our loved ones death anniversary is also our survival anniversary. We did it. We keep doing it. We keep showing up. Stepping forward, growing, moving, and shifting into the new life that has found us.
When we break down onto our knees on these death anniversaries in sorrow and longing, in pain and in heartbreak, we must not forget to stand up and rejoice for all recovery and resiliency we’ve carried.
We did it. We continue to do it. Whether it’s pretty or composed or colorful doesn’t matter. Whether it was messy or dark or brutal, you’ve survived grief’s attachment. We’ve proven to every single person watching that grief can be lived with while still living beautifully.
You are an inspiration. You are a grief warrior.
With a shattered heart and a broken path leading to the future, you keep stepping and breathing and loving with an invisible hole the world can’t see and often forgets.
This may be the gut-wrenching day they left this earth but it’s also the very day you started carrying a strength you didn’t know you had, a loss you weren’t prepared for, and a life void of the person you never wanted to live without. That kind of pain resiliency deserves to be acknowledged. That kind of grief work deserves to be recognized. It’s the very hope that will light the way for others. Because sadly, there will be others.
Today it’s been four years of life without her. Four years of constantly showing up with a broken heart and still finding pieces of joy and happiness. The best days are the ones with gentle reminders of the pieces of her that remain, in me, and in every delicate piece of the legacy she left behind.
While today marks four years of her death it also marks four years of my grief journey, the journey that created the grief warrior that stands before you today. While this day stings with trauma and devastation, and while it leaves me aching with an intensity larger than usual, it also showcases the survival of grief.
Every death anniversary remind yourself, this is the day you became someone’s legacy. The day that created a survivor and a warrior, a grief warrior.
You’re a grief warrior and you just survived another year.
A wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.