numbers. i tend to notice ‘calendaritis’ - the subsequent years ~ sometimes mild, sometimes fierce. the first year shock-ish as the first sensing seasonal changes, other holidays and occasions. at times the beloveds feel just across a veil, others galaxies away.
yes... it can be disorienting (to me) how widely that varies. I love the way you put it -- sometimes they feel close, just across the thin veil, other times galaxies away.
Maia there is such clarity in this grief writing. Such a beautiful love letter to your own soul. It resonates very much within me too, not only the grief but the math thing as well.
Such a beautiful and profound reflection, Maia. I often find myself noticing certain pockets of grief, during the year. I have a strange gathering of death-anniversaries in June, almost all my significant losses have happened, across the years, in June. And that feels a little like grief mathematics...
I've been finding the last three Januaries to be incredibly difficult but also kind of confusing -- my mom and dad's death days were in January, but there birthdays were as well (also two weeks apart, exactly the same time frame as their death dates). Celebrating and grieving come all wrapped up in the same yarn. Though I did notice this year, the sense of celebrating their lives was starting to outpace the feelings around their deaths. Ever evolving...
Oh, I know that tangly feeling. I lost a dear friend to suicide a couple of years ago, days before his birthday. Reading ‘The Smell of Rain on Dust: Grief and Praise’ by Martin Prechtel was beyond helpful for me in refiguring what I saw grief as. So around that time, whether I was deep in tormented longing and missing him or whether I was celebrating his life and remembering the beautiful times we shared—it was all praise. So that time is just a time of praise for him, now, whatever it looks like.
That’s so beautiful, Chloe — thank you for sharing that experience with me. Actually this past January did start to shift with my parents. I decided to make one of my mom’s favorite dishes, chicken paprikash (she had Slovenian roots). That was the birthday celebration, and all the effort I put into it and all the fun sharing it with friends took a lot of the sting out of the other anniversary. Moving in that direction… all praise, I love that.
And I’ve never read Martin Prechtel though I’ve heard so much about him, and he actually lives not far from where I live! I will look that one up. xox
I never heard that story about the Buddha and the woman whose son had died. It’s a good story.
I’m sorry for your losses, Maia.
One thing I relate with in your post is a tiny little parenthetical aside: where you refer to your own denial. Not sure if you mean your denial of your parent‘s problem.
I think I’m in denial of the need to nurture some relationships in my life; with my children, with my parents, with my siblings.
I come from the big family where I always found it easier to just let everyone else do all the talking. I think I’m a little selfish in that I don’t want to be bothered dealing with everyone else’s emotional complexities.
Hmm. That’s the first time I’ve ever verbalized that fact. And somehow your essay inspired it even though it was about something completely different; grief..
So thanks, Maia, and I hope the mathematics add up to peace and healing for you. 💚🩷
Yes, I was referring to denial around the aging process. My parents were definitely avoiding a lot of hard truths about what they could and couldn't do so well, and to some degree for quite a long time I was doing the same thing. I wanted to believe that some of things I was seeing, like my dad who was a master of navigation getting lost in his hometown while driving on a simple errand, were just one-off anomalies, that he was having a 'bad day' and things would get better. That wasn't the case.
And thank you for sharing your insight around a desire to nurture relationships in your life. Even though at first that may not seem related to grief, I wonder if maybe it is in someway. Grief comes into our lives around all kinds of losses and changes, not only death. Perhaps there was something about your family dynamics that was really lacking for you, and did not meet some basic needs... that would be something to acknowledge the grief around as well. Forgive me if I'm playing therapist here! I've just been really interested lately in the concept of "ambiguous grief" because I think it's so pervasive in our lives and often overlooked. Grief has so much power to heal us as well, but only if we can honor it. I could be completely wrong here : ) But just thought I'd offer it if it resonates in any way.
Are you kidding? I’ll take a free therapist any day 😊
And I think you may have a very good point . In fact, when you say “ perhaps there was something about your family dynamics that was really lacking for you,” I feel as though you are hitting the nail on the head! I would like to book an appointment with you as soon as possible 😆
I love this, Maia. I am also a fellow dyscalculist (is that a word? 😊) and, like you, have found myself continually wrapped around the mathematics of grief. This December will mark five years (five years??!!!!) since my best friend and soulmate, Jess, died. So much time between now and then. The pain and joy just keep repeating. But this is what it means to love so deeply, which is what I remind myself each time the pain comes in particular. Makes the breathing easier, filled with all that the cosmos has to bear.
I hope light and love find you however you need them this week. ❤️
Yes, you described it beautifully, Amanda -- grief and love are completely intertwined. When we remember that, the pain turns into something else pretty exquisite. May you be well!
I’ve always loved and noticed numbers. Not in a mathematical way (leave that to my brother, the accountant!) but in a date way and often a synchronistic way.
Yesterday was 22 months since I left my husband and arrived back in France. I thought after a year I would stop noticing all these dates, but I haven’t yet. I added another one almost 3 months ago when my divorce was finalised.
Interestingly this is the 2nd time this week I’ve heard that the 2nd year is worse than the 1st. I tend to agree. It’s more real.
This is so true and painful and beautiful, Maia. Thank you for your openness 🩵 I hope we can all feel held in what can’t be lost to constant change and death.
A terrific tribute to grief and learning how to celebrate its presence for what it can teach us about living, as well as dying and death. Regardless how many years pass, the "loss" of loved ones remains and I am grateful it does. When we come to see grief, and death, as friends, rather than an enemy, there's a shift in how we learn to accept and finally embrace.
Yes, like surprised by Grace? I sometimes wonder if people are looking in the wrong places to find "an answer" that will help and heal? Keep hearing Fred Rogers, and the wisdom from his mother, "Look for the helpers."
Fred was (and is) a treasure. And yes, I wonder that too.... we get pulled and swayed into looking in so many other directions than the one right in front of us, the one that calls for us to show up for each other and be kind. That's really all there is to it.
The Mathematics of Grief. I've never heard grief framed that way, Maia. Yet, it tells me everything. Or at least, quite a lot. Thank you for sharing your story with grief and all of our stories
"The Mathematics of Grief" all too familiar. I find myself astonished as to how much time has passed since each of my nuclear family members died and simultaneously feeling those events just. happened. Since I am the youngest of 3, I supposed I somehow knew I would be the one left. But until my last surviving sister died of COVID it never really sunk in.
Hi Eleanor, so good to see you here. Yes, that's something I didn't touch on in this writing, but isn't it wild how elastic time can feel when it comes to grief... sometimes it feels like all those years are compressed into a very short time, and other times a short time feels like it's been forever. I am so sorry you've lost your whole nuclear family, and I know we share what it's like to lose a loved one to COVID. take good care.
Maia, Thank you for sharing how your grief has changed and evolved over the past three years in this tender month of August. Grief is one experience that ties us all together.
A beautiful homage to your people, to your timeline, to your grief, to the grief we all share.
deep bows to you, Elena.
Thank you for coming around to compassion. It’s just next door to devastation, if only we know to knock one more door.
That's such a beautiful way to put it, yes.
When I find myself in an unexplained period of sadness, I've learned ti check the calendar.
Yes indeed.... the body never lies....
❤️, and I'm glad you've found Chloe's writing.
numbers. i tend to notice ‘calendaritis’ - the subsequent years ~ sometimes mild, sometimes fierce. the first year shock-ish as the first sensing seasonal changes, other holidays and occasions. at times the beloveds feel just across a veil, others galaxies away.
yes... it can be disorienting (to me) how widely that varies. I love the way you put it -- sometimes they feel close, just across the thin veil, other times galaxies away.
Maia there is such clarity in this grief writing. Such a beautiful love letter to your own soul. It resonates very much within me too, not only the grief but the math thing as well.
Thank you, Becca... I know you have been intimate with deep grief as well.
Such a beautiful and profound reflection, Maia. I often find myself noticing certain pockets of grief, during the year. I have a strange gathering of death-anniversaries in June, almost all my significant losses have happened, across the years, in June. And that feels a little like grief mathematics...
"pockets of grief," yes, that's what it's like...
I've been finding the last three Januaries to be incredibly difficult but also kind of confusing -- my mom and dad's death days were in January, but there birthdays were as well (also two weeks apart, exactly the same time frame as their death dates). Celebrating and grieving come all wrapped up in the same yarn. Though I did notice this year, the sense of celebrating their lives was starting to outpace the feelings around their deaths. Ever evolving...
Oh, I know that tangly feeling. I lost a dear friend to suicide a couple of years ago, days before his birthday. Reading ‘The Smell of Rain on Dust: Grief and Praise’ by Martin Prechtel was beyond helpful for me in refiguring what I saw grief as. So around that time, whether I was deep in tormented longing and missing him or whether I was celebrating his life and remembering the beautiful times we shared—it was all praise. So that time is just a time of praise for him, now, whatever it looks like.
That’s so beautiful, Chloe — thank you for sharing that experience with me. Actually this past January did start to shift with my parents. I decided to make one of my mom’s favorite dishes, chicken paprikash (she had Slovenian roots). That was the birthday celebration, and all the effort I put into it and all the fun sharing it with friends took a lot of the sting out of the other anniversary. Moving in that direction… all praise, I love that.
And I’ve never read Martin Prechtel though I’ve heard so much about him, and he actually lives not far from where I live! I will look that one up. xox
So beautiful. And yes, check the book out, it's really something special xx ❤️
I never heard that story about the Buddha and the woman whose son had died. It’s a good story.
I’m sorry for your losses, Maia.
One thing I relate with in your post is a tiny little parenthetical aside: where you refer to your own denial. Not sure if you mean your denial of your parent‘s problem.
I think I’m in denial of the need to nurture some relationships in my life; with my children, with my parents, with my siblings.
I come from the big family where I always found it easier to just let everyone else do all the talking. I think I’m a little selfish in that I don’t want to be bothered dealing with everyone else’s emotional complexities.
Hmm. That’s the first time I’ve ever verbalized that fact. And somehow your essay inspired it even though it was about something completely different; grief..
So thanks, Maia, and I hope the mathematics add up to peace and healing for you. 💚🩷
Hi Don,
Yes, I was referring to denial around the aging process. My parents were definitely avoiding a lot of hard truths about what they could and couldn't do so well, and to some degree for quite a long time I was doing the same thing. I wanted to believe that some of things I was seeing, like my dad who was a master of navigation getting lost in his hometown while driving on a simple errand, were just one-off anomalies, that he was having a 'bad day' and things would get better. That wasn't the case.
And thank you for sharing your insight around a desire to nurture relationships in your life. Even though at first that may not seem related to grief, I wonder if maybe it is in someway. Grief comes into our lives around all kinds of losses and changes, not only death. Perhaps there was something about your family dynamics that was really lacking for you, and did not meet some basic needs... that would be something to acknowledge the grief around as well. Forgive me if I'm playing therapist here! I've just been really interested lately in the concept of "ambiguous grief" because I think it's so pervasive in our lives and often overlooked. Grief has so much power to heal us as well, but only if we can honor it. I could be completely wrong here : ) But just thought I'd offer it if it resonates in any way.
Are you kidding? I’ll take a free therapist any day 😊
And I think you may have a very good point . In fact, when you say “ perhaps there was something about your family dynamics that was really lacking for you,” I feel as though you are hitting the nail on the head! I would like to book an appointment with you as soon as possible 😆
I only charge $5000 an hour ; )
seriously though, you can google "ambiguous loss" and "Pauline Boss" (originator of the term) and learn a lot.
I will do that, thank you, Maia. 🙏
And worth every penny!
everyone needs a cheerleader like you, Don!
I love this, Maia. I am also a fellow dyscalculist (is that a word? 😊) and, like you, have found myself continually wrapped around the mathematics of grief. This December will mark five years (five years??!!!!) since my best friend and soulmate, Jess, died. So much time between now and then. The pain and joy just keep repeating. But this is what it means to love so deeply, which is what I remind myself each time the pain comes in particular. Makes the breathing easier, filled with all that the cosmos has to bear.
I hope light and love find you however you need them this week. ❤️
Yes, you described it beautifully, Amanda -- grief and love are completely intertwined. When we remember that, the pain turns into something else pretty exquisite. May you be well!
I’ve always loved and noticed numbers. Not in a mathematical way (leave that to my brother, the accountant!) but in a date way and often a synchronistic way.
Yesterday was 22 months since I left my husband and arrived back in France. I thought after a year I would stop noticing all these dates, but I haven’t yet. I added another one almost 3 months ago when my divorce was finalised.
Interestingly this is the 2nd time this week I’ve heard that the 2nd year is worse than the 1st. I tend to agree. It’s more real.
Grief definitely has its own timeline and won't be harnessed to our expectations!
Wishing you strength and groundedness as you navigate through this second year...
Thank you Maia x
This is so true and painful and beautiful, Maia. Thank you for your openness 🩵 I hope we can all feel held in what can’t be lost to constant change and death.
Oh that's a wonderful wish, Sarah -- to feel that we are held is really the ground of all healing.
A terrific tribute to grief and learning how to celebrate its presence for what it can teach us about living, as well as dying and death. Regardless how many years pass, the "loss" of loved ones remains and I am grateful it does. When we come to see grief, and death, as friends, rather than an enemy, there's a shift in how we learn to accept and finally embrace.
Thank you for your kind words here, Gary. Isn't it amazing what happens when we put it all in a framework of gratitude?
Yes, like surprised by Grace? I sometimes wonder if people are looking in the wrong places to find "an answer" that will help and heal? Keep hearing Fred Rogers, and the wisdom from his mother, "Look for the helpers."
Fred was (and is) a treasure. And yes, I wonder that too.... we get pulled and swayed into looking in so many other directions than the one right in front of us, the one that calls for us to show up for each other and be kind. That's really all there is to it.
I’m coming up on the one year anniversary of my best friend’s death, so thank you for this helpful framing.
Take good care of your heart... it's a very tender time.
The Mathematics of Grief. I've never heard grief framed that way, Maia. Yet, it tells me everything. Or at least, quite a lot. Thank you for sharing your story with grief and all of our stories
Thank you for reading it with care and thoughtfulness, dear Paulette.
"The Mathematics of Grief" all too familiar. I find myself astonished as to how much time has passed since each of my nuclear family members died and simultaneously feeling those events just. happened. Since I am the youngest of 3, I supposed I somehow knew I would be the one left. But until my last surviving sister died of COVID it never really sunk in.
Hi Eleanor, so good to see you here. Yes, that's something I didn't touch on in this writing, but isn't it wild how elastic time can feel when it comes to grief... sometimes it feels like all those years are compressed into a very short time, and other times a short time feels like it's been forever. I am so sorry you've lost your whole nuclear family, and I know we share what it's like to lose a loved one to COVID. take good care.
Maia, Thank you for sharing how your grief has changed and evolved over the past three years in this tender month of August. Grief is one experience that ties us all together.