By cwhyte, Feb 8 2018 02:09PM
A time of hope, 'We welcome the growth of the returning light and witness Life's insatiable appetite for rebirth.'
The folks at The Goddess and The Green Man, Glastonbury
I'm normally making candles and weaving things, going for bulb spotting walks and enjoying this expectant time of year with a gusto.
This year I'm late to the Imbolc party because I'm feeling the loss of my Dad. When my Mum died it was almost as if she hadn't. I felt her with me and would reach to dial her number and would dream of her frequently. All of which I found comforting. Dad died and he was gone. Just Gone. For months any memories of him just gave me pain. In February I would normally be looking for gardens with a good display but also wheeled access, checking how many stairs before I decide to go anywhere. All small things but huge triggers for me. The last 2 weeks have been hard but still the sight of snow drops and crocuses coming up lifts me and makes me glad.
I'm looking out of the window at all the small plants starting to poke up out of the ground and realising that slowly this ache in my chest and throat is turning back into the feelings of love that they used to be. I'm reminded that my grief and yearning are just my feelings of love with nowhere to go.
Very slowly as the year turns I'm remembering that my Dad loved me for my entire life and that feeling doesn't have to stop now.
All that love that I am pouring into the void can be directed to the memory of him and then, quite suddenly I can feel him clearly again and that is making a world of difference.
I wrap myself in the memories and feelings and they don't hurt so accutely, some of them even make me smile. And so now, with the snowdrops and the daffodil leaves and the newly found memory of my Dad, I can finally begin to walk down an old path, one that leads me to celebrate Imbolc and that will lead me to remember what living feels like again.