Between Breaths Issue 2: The Seasons of Grief

Grief makes sense in the winter.

For many, both in grief and not, the long cold winter months can be a time for respite, retreat, and solitude. The shift into colder weather and shorter days requires us to slow down and spend more time within the walls of our home and within ourselves. Grief settles into this space. It takes advantage of the time to reflect and sit with the various emotions as they emerge. As Angie Weiland-Crosby says, “Winter knows how to hush, still, listen, so the soul can speak.”

Not that grieving in winter is simple. In winter, we must face the challenges of holidays and expectations around joy and gatherings. Perhaps winter allows us the space and time to manage those difficult times at our own pace. Though we may emerge weary from battle, we also have had the time to process and reflect.

Spring brings transition. It coaxes us out of our stupor with the promise of new beginnings. Though still drowsy, we emerge from the darkness with hopes high as we face the sun. Yet the weariness of grief still lingers, like the frost that blankets a spring morning.

And then comes summer. Oh, summer. Summer does not hush nor does it offer stillness. Instead, it blazes around us.

Summer is hot and oppressive and demands to be seen and felt. We seem only to be settling into spring when the rest of the world begins to anticipate the heat and long days. Those who were quiet during the winter months begin to excitedly chatter about the end of the school year and summer plans. While others eagerly anticipate summer’s arrival, we sit with our faded photos and corners of book pages folded down on memories from summers past. The transition into summer asks us to gather and bask, while we may still long for dormancy and hibernation.

So, we shed our winter coats and join others in the sunlight. We engage, and play, and pretend. At times we actually do feel joy before being swept away by the undertow of guilt. How could we possibly enjoy anything without our loved one? There was a sorrowful comfort to the chill of winter; the very light of summer aims to burn away sorrow. This leaves us feeling conflicted and confused as we navigate the demands of summer and our own experience.

However, in spite of this, we can choose to turn toward the light of summer. While winter encourages us to be still, summer calls on us to engage while taking a break from our typical responsibilities. It can be an opportunity to be in nature, spend time with loved ones, take time from work, travel, and participate in hobbies. Grief has a place in summer, too, and we are allowed to enjoy what the warmer months have to offer.

Though this time may be challenging in its own way, take the time to make the best of your summer. Once the crisp air returns and trees begin to lose their leaves, we will take solace in knowing that the seasons continue on. So, when the temperatures soar, trust that with nurturing, even the most delicate flowers can bloom. And remember, grief has its place in every season — resting in winter’s hush, emerging in spring’s thaw, standing in summer’s blaze, and shedding in autumn’s breeze.