I cut the lawn today. It felt good to do something normal, it’s been a while. I felt like I was really stepping out. I wasn’t hiding in the house. I wasn’t counting pills or making doctors appointments. I wasn’t drying tears or planning a funeral. I was just pushing the lawn mower, working up a sweat and waking up to a spring time that arrived while I’d been holding my breath. The planet kept spinning and the sun rose day after day even as we kept the curtains closed, it was good to feel its warmth on my face again.
I’ve always liked cutting the lawn – it’s an instant gratification sort of chore. I especially enjoy it in the spring time when everything is lush and freshly greened, when the mowed lines are distinct and defined. The smell of freshly cut grass usually makes my mind wander back to my youth – back to carefree summers, skinned knees and freckles – back to happy. But not today. Today my mind wandered only as far back as reflection – back to quiet.
As the mowed lines moved across the yard I reflected on grass, only grass. Grass is resilient, even after the driest fall or the harshest winter, you can count on grass to give it a go again. It can get crushed, burnt, and buried and still it pushes forth in the spring to refresh the world. I felt the need to take notice of this resilience, this determination.
I am slowly starting to step back into the world. I’m focusing on familiar things. But even as I do I’m discovering it might take a while before familiar things feel familiar again. I’m awkward, uncomfortable in my own skin – everything feels raw. I’m actually not expecting to feel okay in the world right now – I have a giant hole in my life and in my heart. My familiar world has been rattled by loss and I am not okay. The odd thing is, I seem to be okay with not being okay. I’m not in a hurry to pack away my grief.
I think I need to sit in sadness for a while – I need to reflect for a bit. I’m not expecting to bounce back as much as I hope to roll with the punches again. I’m going to take things one day at a time, one step at a time, one mowed line at a time. Like the grass waiting for the season to change, I’m going to be patient and trust time to work its magic on me too.