All Saints

On this Day of the Dead, we welcome the spirits of our loved ones, tell their stories and remember their love.

I don’t know much about El Dia de Los Muertos, but I’m learning. It’s hard to miss this annual celebration given its trending pop culture status. What draws me in is the rich tradition. The most poignant thing I’ve read is that it’s a day where heaven and earth meet. I like that.

I think about those who have lost loved ones and choose to pay tribute to them not only with flowers and photographs, but also with food, stories and song. It makes sense to me that when we do these things we feel connected to our deceased loved ones. Honoring someone in this way is intentional and purposeful. Tributes like this create legacy. Most of all, at least for myself, in remembering I find some peace in a place where heaven and earth meet.

I’m learning AND healing at the same time.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

Halloween Chili

It’s important to make space and time for grieving. I find that I feel closest to my mom when I’m doing things we used to do together. Holidays are a good time to revisit these types of memories. While Mom wasn’t a big fan of Halloween, she made sure we always had a belly full of hot food before trick or treating. The tradition was passed on to the grandkids as well. The last time I spent Halloween with my Mom, she made chili for all of us

My kids don’t like beans. So making chili in my house is a funny thing because I have to really, really want chili seeing as how I’ll be the ONLY person eating it. This year I felt the urge to have chili so strongly that I actually dreamt about it. I called my sister to see if she had gathered any tips or tricks on how to make Mom’s chili and went for it!

While it didn’t compare to my Mom’s chili (needed onion salt), it wasn’t half bad. What I do know is that sitting in front of a hot bowl of chili on a cold Halloween night…remembering my Mom…was all good.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

One Less Flower Child

You never know when grief will strike. One minute you’re mindlessly scrolling through Facebook and the next minute you’re wiping tears off your phone. There’s a quote that says losing a loved one is actually two losses — the first is losing what was and the second is losing what could have been.

This weekend I saw posts from the “Boo at the Zoo” event in my hometown. My Mom was not a big Halloween fan, but she did participate in this annual event with her coworkers. Oftentimes we’d chat about her costume ideas on the phone. Occasionally, we would shop together as she planned out her look. This year her coworkers dressed as hippies. In my mind’s eye I could so clearly see her in costume…vest, beads, tie dye, bell bottoms…the whole works. A real hippie chick.

As the world works to resume “normal,” I’m realizing just how hard this second year without her has been. We all collectively missed events like this in 2020. Now these events go on…they just go on without her.

She should be here.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.