How Grief Turned Me Orange

As I soak in epsom salt and lavender in my bathtub and feel the warm water blanket me with love, I stare at the navy blue wallpaper with white and salmon-colored butterflies, which has been on these bathroom walls for at least 35 years. I remember when Mom picked out the wallpaper. I've loved this wallpaper for a long time. When my son and I moved into my childhood home three years ago, I brought the navy blue-with-suns-and-moons shower curtain, along with a small box and bowl that I'd painted a long time ago, navy blue with spirals. It all goes together so well.

Except now, I'm feeling orange. Bright orange! The navy blue feels like the old me. Orange feels like the new me. Which is funny, because I went through many years where I despised the color orange. And yellow. Perhaps because for a good 20 years, all four walls of my childhood bedroom were covered with bright orange and yellow butterflies! I think I OD'd on those orange and yellow butterflies.

I found myself liking the color orange again this past spring. I did a lot of work on balancing my chakras, so maybe that had something to do with it. :-) According to "My Holistic Healing" website http://www.my-holistic-healing.com/sacral-chakra.html  the orange, or sacral, chakra, corresponds to 

• Equality - the balance of independence and dependence
• The power of choice
• Creativity
• Intimate connection with others & sense of unity
• Sensuality

That's pretty much on target for me these days ...

This past summer, I honored my orange feelings by purchasing an orange bath mat, orange wash cloth, and orange placemat to cover the small table between the toilet and sink. More orange began to seep into my consciousness.

One time this summer when Kendryek (my son) and I were visiting our local Taubman Art Museum in downtown Roanoke, I went into the women's bathroom on the second floor for the first time. OH MYYYY!!!! I was bathed in orange! Orange tile, from top to bottom. Floor even. How delightful! I ran to the men's bathroom to see what color IT was ... RED! All red tile. WOW! I've never seen anything like it and was delighted with the creativity of whomever came up with the idea of swathing a bathroom in one color.

That was JUST the confirmation I needed to cover my own bathroom fully in orange!

I wish I could show you a before and after picture. But, there's no "after" picture just yet. My orange bathroom is in progress, mainly in my mind! Something like this:

Which brings me to the reason for this blog ....FLOW. The grief of losing my mom, dad, and sister in a short period of time has allowed me to learn to go with the flow. Take this upstairs bathroom for instance. When my dad was still alive, and my son and I had moved in with him during his last year, I couldn't WAIT to redo this bathroom. After he died, however, I couldn't bare the thought of moving his electric razor, electric toothbrush, etc. I needed to look at those items every day. They helped me feel connected to my dad; helped me feel loved. They brought back sweet memories of my dad and I brushing our teeth, side by side, when I was a little girl. My dad would get into a ZONE when brushing his teeth. It seemed to be a spiritual experience for him!

And so, for the past two years, I've looked at my dad's toiletry items every day. Sometimes seeing them made me feel happy; other times, I felt sadness. Grief triggered that my dad is no longer physically present. Which triggers that my mom is no longer physically present. And my sister is no longer physically present. Yes, I do connect with each of them in spirit. I feel their presence daily. I am comforted by their spiritual energy. But you know, sometimes I just miss them. And I'll cry a little bit.

A couple of months ago, it felt OKAY to move Dad's razor and electric toothbrush to the plastic container of his special items in the basement. And the ugly old, plastic, dirty white wall shelf above the toilet? Still looking at it and just about ready to replace it with a wicker shelf. And this morning, I decided I'd like to hang bamboo blinds in the window. And I'd like to find a bamboo shower curtain. Bamboo and orange ,,,, yea, that's it!

Grief allows me time to honor my feelings and look at or hold that which brings me comfort. Grief allows the delicate process of hanging on with moving forward - on my own timetable and no one else's. Grief has really brought me down some days. But it has also propelled me forward in my spiritual growth, inspiring me to surround myself with colors and things that lift me up.

I'll keep a scrap of that navy blue-with-butterflies-wallpaper that my mom and I lovingly put up on the walls. And soon, I'll buy the orange paint. And I'll wait for that perfect moment when it's time to paint. And I'll either do it myself or have Maria, an expert painter with a steady hand, do it. Or I'll have her do the edges and corners, and then I'll roll paint. Any of those combinations is OKAY, I've learned. 

Just going with the flow...

Every Day As Vacation

So my son, Kendryek, and I were in Washington, DC, over Spring Break to see the cherry blossoms and take in some museums. A friend and neighbor previously told me she planned to take her son to the Holocaust Museum to help with his history lesson. I thought that was a great idea, so I also took Kendryek to the Holocaust Museum. I've been in that museum plenty of times, having worked just 2 blocks away for 16 years. I always approached the museum and its exhibits intellectually with my friend and coworker, Mark Gielecki, whose father was a Holocaust survivor. Mark was always very upbeat and told me positive stories about his father's survival. Walking through the Holocaust museum turned into an honor to Mark's father, and it felt good to honor him.

14th Street Entrance of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum.Credit: US Holocaust Memorial Museum

Once Kendryek and I got to the front door, we were greeted with a sign that said all exhibits were sold out for the day. All except, "Remember the Children: Daniel's Story," about an eleven year old boy's life before, during, and after the Holocaust. It's very well done, offering sounds, period-appropriate decor and clothes, and journal entries to heighten as many senses as possible for the viewer. Slowly walking through the first part of the exhibit, we heard children's laughter from the exhibit, parents' whispers explaining details to their children around us, exhibit knobs and buttons being pushed by viewers, gentle movement of those in front and behind us ...and then as we walked through a room resembling a cattle car, the mood became more solemn. We could hear a pin drop. The air felt stale. The exhibit was now in black and white instead of color, as it was previously. The gravity of the Holocaust, from a child's perspective, was felt.

I felt sad.

At the end of the exhibit, Kendryek and I walked into the gift shop, where Kendryek bought a Star of David necklace to wear in honor of children who had suffered. As he made his purchase, I walked into the atrium, with its high ceiling of glass panels, allowing sunlight to shine through. I looked up and had a moment of awakening. "I'm so tired of death and sadness," I thought. "So tired of grieving and depression and the energy it's taken and how my body feels." Kendryek walked over to me and stood beside me. And it was in that moment that I released a huge chunk of locked-up grief. I didn't cry; I just felt the grief energy disappear "Come on," I told Kendryek. "No more doom and gloom. From now on, we're having FUN!"

And we did! We saw an Imax movie at the Smithsonian, rode the paddle boats at the tidal basin, went to the beach and rented bikes and flew kites ... with a new lightness I hadn't experienced in a while.

On our way home from the beach, I reviewed all of the things Kendryek and I had done, and I asked him what was his favorite experience at the beach. You know what he said? "Flying a kite with you." He could feel my lightness and the symbolic activity of freedom!




And so every single morning since that Spring day, I ask myself, "How can today be like a vacation?" I make sure I have fun every day as if I'm on vacation. Many days, that looks like an epsom salt bath. Often, it looks like my silly dancing in the kitchen to my favorite music and drinking coconut milk from a margarita glass. I'll often hop in my convertible and drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway, blasting my favorite tunes. Sometimes I'll play with the cats or play a board game with Kendryek. Whatever way I can consciously put some fun into my day, I do it!

Having vacation moments throughout each day helps me feel refreshed, recharged, and hopeful and curious about life. And happy! My quest now is to make ALL of every day a vacation day!