After the Rain
“No one can do it [grief] for us, we do not have to do it alone.” — Ashley Judd
The bright sunshine after a day of heavy storms called out like a siren. “Get outside and get into the woods.” Luckily, having the morning off meant that I had time for a leisurely cup of coffee or two and a much-needed Trader Joe’s run before heading to the park.
Within just a few steps of arriving, I felt a wave of gladness. How good it felt to be out in the sun as the earth dried out from a heavy soak. The creek still swelled from the rains and all around were signs that the morning rapids were a far cry from what the night had wrought.
A few hours earlier, in my early morning perusal of social media, I noticed that the new episode of Anderson Cooper’s “All There Is” podcast was live. Having found insights and comfort in previous episodes, I was eager to hear his conversation with Ashley Judd.
So, Anderson and Ashley joined Lola and me as we made our way along the beautiful and familiar path. I’d been away from the park for a week or so and it felt so good to be back, the sights and smells offering a comforting cadence and warm embrace as the bright green moss provided delightful bursts of color.
As I listened to Judd recount stories of her mother and their relationship, my mind drifted to thoughts of my own mother. The relationship my mom and I shared was very different from theirs, but we, too, knew great love and took such joy in one another’s company.
My mom was already much on my mind this week, which marked twenty-four years since her death. On Monday, the anniversary date, I lit a candle at the Cathedral but was soon swept up into the rhythms of the workday. It was now, as Judd spoke of sweet moments she shared with her mom, and I walked in the forest, that I allowed myself the space and time to sink into this annual rite of remembrance and reflection.
There were smiles and a few tears as I listened and reminisced, buoyed by the sunshine and the trees and the birds flitting about. Every visit to the park includes birds and birdsong, but it had been a few months since I had seen my favorites, the cardinals who call this park their home.
As we neared the thicket so hospitable to the birds, there was lots of activity, robins flying all about. Then I saw one of the female cardinals, her warm grey feathers and wisps of red a comfort to me. Moments later I noticed her male partner, his bright red plumage striking amidst the bare shrubbery.
I stopped and watched for a few minutes before moving along, full of gratitude for the connection and relationships that live in our hearts well beyond the lives of those we love. Like the cardinals in the park, the memories — and the love — are sometimes tucked away where I don’t see them, but I know they are there, doing the work of life and coming forth to sing when the sun is out and my heart is open.
