The Joy That Comes With Grief

I’ve written pieces before about the grief that comes with joy.  About those moments of such happiness sprinkled with loss that comes with the movement forward in these times of celebration.  
 
The birth of a baby changing us from not-mother to mother now. And then that again when our families grow and we lose the, just this one, to create a clan.  The marriage of a child that shifts us into a new role.  The taking on of a new career and so the stepping away from what we did before that we did so well.  The grief of what was that we leave behind to step into the new that we are forging forward for.
 
Last week, the reverse was true.  Last week, I got to swim in the joy that comes with grief.
 
Last week my mom died.
 
And I was blessed to have my middle daughter be my witness in the process of funeral negotiation and family navigation.  And I got to sit on her hotel bed with her and her best friend in song and creation and love.
 
And I joined in quiet contemplation with my three children and grounded into their strength and beauty and we deep breathed together.  God, they are extraordinary and my heart is so full with my love for them.
 
And all six of my grandchildren were in one place, racing around the best hotel lobby for children ever (both young and adult) to run and play and be together.
 
I sat with my sisters and my dad, near to the near perfect unfinished pine wooden box that held the body of my mom and a pink Spalding while we held her in our hearts.
 
I looked out onto a sea of family and friends and saw my dancer in crime, from I think it was age 12, who ballet-moved with me across a studio and also in the basement bedroom of her home to the Doobie Brother’s Black Water.
 
And my daughter by marriage sang L’Chi Lach, her strong and powerful voice filling the room to be joined by my daughter by birth and then all of us together. And we merged our voices to move my mom along on her journey to a place we do not know. 
 
I laughed a ton as I flew thousands of miles with my sister and her husband and her children and my child and then my dad, too. 
And my daughter and I did handstands at the airport gate because this is what you do before you fly.  
Two sisters surprised a third at an airport pickup with my cousin as chauffeur.  
And my daughter and my niece created an arts and crafts collage on a hotel room floor. 
My California grandchildren played in the snow for the first time.  
And my Massachusetts grandchildren got to swim in a pool (indoor) in January. 
My eldest, a son, shared his eldest son’s late-night musings. 
And I held my youngest daughter’s youngest, who is a daughter.
My middle daughter’s partner showed up for literally 24 hours to join in this family celebration of life. 
And I had such a sweet conversation with my youngest daughter’s husband on our drive back home west, after they flew thousands of miles east, too. And we played musical seats literally in traffic, on the 405 heading north from LAX, so I could take the wheel, because this is what you do when the baby is crying and the mommy is driving.  
 
We flew redeyes and drove miles and came together, myself and my children and partners and grandchildren, and sisters and husbands, nieces and nephews, my dad, and my cousins and aunts and uncles, and so many friends from forever. 
 
And we ate really good food sitting in shiva and connecting and laughing and loving and celebrating.  Because funerals are about connecting and laughing and loving and celebrating and coming together with open hearts as we honored my mom. And my mom loved it.  Because she was there.
 
And then it was complete.  
 
And then we all went home, across the country to California and Colorado, or up north to Massachusetts or south back to Florida.
 
And now I get to think about my mom.
 
~
L’Chi Lach Lyrics-- (meaning "go forth for yourself")
L'chi lach, to a land that I will show you
Leich l'cha, to a place you do not know
L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you
 
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l'chi lach
 
L'chi lach, and I shall make your name great
Leich l'cha, and all shall praise your name
L'chi lach, to the place that I will show you
l'chi lach

(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach
(L'sim-chat cha-yim) l'chi lach

(Meaning and Interpretation:
In the Hebrew, L'Chi Lach means "go forth for yourself," a divine call for journey and self-discovery.  A moving beyond current limitations and a journey into the unknown, trusting that one is blessed and guided.)