Last Friday, for the live class, I pulled out a playlist I haven’t listened to in a while. I didn’t look at all the songs, just picked it from instinct. The last song on the playlist is Sometimes It Snows in April by Prince. While lying in savasana, it came on. I love when the right song comes on at the right time and this one was perrrfect. The song is about a person mourning the passing of a friend. That day was the anniversary of my mother’s passing. It’s been 8 years since she left her body. As I laid in corpse pose, I smiled. I was filled with joy – thinking of how much I loved/love her and grief for I can no longer share experiences with her.
My mom gave me so much. A love of music, good food, cooking for those I love, the written word and an appreciation for the ocean – amongst many other things.
Later that I day, I was working away on the computer, listening to the soundtrack of Swan Song for the first time AND the last song was Sometimes It Snows in April covered by Kamilah! WHA?!?
This song is fairly obscure and I heard it twice in one day.
The coincidence wasn’t lost on me.
Yes momma – I feel you.
Later that evening my father, partner and I went out for a delicious Italian meal. My mother loved Italian food and loved loved eating out in beautiful places. We ate, drank wine and talked about everything under the sun. At one point, I stepped back and envisioned her sitting with us. Her big smile, across the table. The way she laughed at my father’s jokes. I toasted her in my heart and rejoined the conversation.
The grief I experienced and continue to experience from my mother’s passing has been challenging, soulful and ultimately life changing. The first two years rocked me in a way I had never been rocked. I didn’t know who I was or how I wanted to show up in the world. I had a hard time just showing up without breaking into pieces. Slowly, slowly, the pieces started to fit together, a different shape emerged. The ground under my feet was different, stronger, more cohesive and still different.
We are resilient.
Grief can be a powerful teacher.
We must dive into the heaviness and at some point, when we are ready, we must swim back up towards the light and life that is continues.
We rejoin the conversation, a new being.