Trigger warning, this story may hit something in you.
The scene before I looked at my husband at noon on a Tuesday and whispered “It’s about to go down.” My life at this moment feels pretty dramatic. I’m tending the fire within.
In fact, I’ve been over-tending. My elbow and shoulder blades have rashes on them... My body is holding so much heat. I’ve been internalizing all my hustling these last few months...really since Scorpio season. It’s been that time in my life for awhile, all the things have been kicking up to a higher gear, a higher vibration. This is what I wanted. This is what I asked for.
This is what I wanted. This is what I asked for. You ever wonder, “what was I thinking”? So, I sit down and write. I gotta get this out.
February and March have always taken me down. Every year that I can remember, these months come for me. I understand why now.
Will you listen?
I had a revelation today. Now, I can NAME IT.
Speaking it, and sharing it.. comes next. That’s fucking scary. I re-learned at Wild Woman Fest that if you don’t discharge the dis-ease, the grief, the pain, the trauma, the story of being so human, then it just lives in you. And, it’s dark in there.
So this story comes NOW
I’m placing it in the Light
I still see this scene in my mind, I revisit it often.
I was nearly three, there was a helicopter flying over our house, the wind was whipping, and my mother was screaming, “somebody get a diaper!”
The wind picked up stronger, and the next thing that I see is my twin sister and I making our way down an aisle towards a casket in our frilly, mint green matching dresses. I can feel my sister’s hand in mine. I can still see the dim lighting and feel our apprehension.
Our baby sister left her body, thirty seven years ago this week. She was hit by a drunk driver (the neighbor), in our front yard while we were playing outside. My Mom had taken my twin and I in for a sec, my older sister and my baby sister were still outside.
For Thirty seven years….
February and March have taken me down. And I always thought, my birthday is in March, why the fuck is it always so shitty? And it is lots of times, in multiple ways. I get crazy ass rashes, my body hurts, I feel so thin, like today,... I could break. I wish people wouldn’t look at me, it’s harder to teach and lead. I usually withdraw and my friends and family see me bare. It’s not like that everyday, but it’s like that a lot.
My Mother’s grief. Holy shit. I’ve come to know that grief so well. We breathed and bathed in it growing up. It lives in me. Her grief in so many ways is mine, we do share the same blood after all. We shared for so long, the same energy and environment too.
This is why I feel so shitty.
There it is.
And I don’t shame myself for carrying that, I don’t pass that off on my Mom either. I did that already. That has no room here. I’m healing.
In a world that is so fucked up right now, the best thing that we can do is to work on ourselves. I work my ass off to feel whole. To not displace my grief on others with my sharp tongue and broken heart. Those are my teachers, not my invalidators. So hello grief, here you are again. I feel you and now I am sharing you. You are too heavy to carry alone. I’m grateful for safe circles, loving family, my sweet children, my supportive husband. And I’m grateful for you Mom, you are one hell of a woman. Thank you for holding me so well, we’ve done so much work to get here. I’m proud of us. You’re beautiful and I love you.
What story lives in you? Is it ready to step into the Light?