Punxsutawney Mom

The groundhog didn't see his shadow this year! Early spring is coming!

Well, with global warming, that's to be expected, isn't it?

This year, I didn't see my shadow. And I'm basically a groundhog, you know? Roly-poly, cuddly, adorable, likes to burrow, a brunette.



I also didn't see my mom's shadow.

17 years ago, Groundhog's Day, is the day my mom died.

I don't think about her too much on a day to day basis, but I always think about her in late January and early February. And for a long time, I worried about what she would be thinking of me. Would she be proud of the things I was doing? Would she think less of me, for some of my less-laudable choices? Would she recognize me, if indeed my fantasy that she was not actually dead came true, and she came back from whatever secret base she had been hiding on for the past decade and a half?

Obviously she would be proud, and she would recognize me, and she would forgive me my wrongs, because she is my parent and that's what parents do, and it's a silly thing to worry about because... it'll never come true. The worry never guided my actions in the moment, it was only after, when I was maudlin, when I was approaching that gray day in February. It's just the want to be able to talk to someone, but they're not answering your texts. Except forever.

And just like waiting around for your friend or lover or important person to text you back, it can drive you absolutely mental if you let it.

Anyway, this year, I didn't feel that. I didn't feel the shadow of my parent.

On one hand, I'm a little uncomfortable about that. Shouldn't I remember her more?

On the other hand, I'm ok with, you know, not worrying about it.

Obviously I wish she wasn't dead, and I wish I knew her, but I'm releasing myself, over the years, from being sad about it.

I'm releasing myself from connecting my self-worth to what other people living or dead, might think about me. Instead, I remember people and interact with them with love, from a place of confidence. I want to remember the times when we were happy. I want other people to influence me, but not create me.

This morning before I went on my run, I was texting a friend who advised me to stop running away from my problems and face them. I said that I had, and you could see it on my workout calendar. I had written "Congrats you're not sad anymore" in the margins a few weeks ago. He said that I must now be running towards something amazing (in which case I should stop texting and go run already). I think that's the case. It's a small thing, but to wake up today and not feel sad... it indicates to me that from this year, I am now running to, not from. Not just specific random hurts, but in general. In my whole life. I'm moving forward.

It's not that I've been non-stop sad for the past 17 years, but it's been a largely unresolved issue that has colored a lot of my relationships, connections/disconnects, and abilities to do human interactions and stuff. To release even one more part of that is a joy.



If you've lost someone, it's terrible for a long time. There is a shadow on you, and winter in a part of you. Maybe you'll let it influence you too much. Maybe you'll lock it all away. Maybe you bleed it all out.

I hope it gets better for you. It takes time. Even if you think you've got it figured out, you probably don't, and it takes even more time. Don't worry too much. It's going to be ok. I'm rooting for you.