They call it the year of firsts.. That’s what my Therapist calls it. The 1st year where you have lost a loved one, their first birthday, the first Christmas, the year of firsts without them. Someone dear to me told me that in Jewish custom they give you a year to grieve the loss of a parent. And boy do I feel in the thick of it. I’ve tried to show myself kindness by not pushing past the waves. I haven’t rushed out of this depth or avoided my fear. I’ve sat with it, screamed at it, and allowed my people into it. I’m not on a grieving island, and what gives me peace, what has helped me, is the kindness that I could have never known the way it was going to end for my mom. I never could have seen it coming or prevented it. I was never responsible for any of her suffering. I was not the hero in her story. I was merely her daughter, someone who could love her and hold her hand in her last hours. I can remember the times that we enjoyed each other and the love swells in my eyes. The grief I have now is the unexpressed love in my heart. What I was unable to share with her in this life, which I hope I can find a place for now that she is gone. This is her Scottish doggie that she wore on Christmas’s. I always loved it. It’s much heavier than I imagined it. ✨🎄☺️ #christmastime #scottishdogs #greifishard #shalom https://www.instagram.com/p/CXrYO7WF4NjXzTfj9NQegb9gl2Y_AssvfZypXU0/?utm_medium=tumblr