I remember thinking, “I can move that end table there, put the other one over there, so I will make room for this new table.”

I remember thinking, “I don’t really like those poppy dishes and the colored bowls, so if I donate them, then I can move my Birthday dishes (gift from Peggy last year) to the kitchen and then I can take my (1977) wedding dishes and make room for them on the dry sink.”

I remember thinking, “I have more hangers in Kevin’s old closet, so I can just push these summer clothes out of the way and make room to hang these new sweaters and tops.”

I remember thinking, “I can put a shelf up over that filing cabinet and then I can make room for those plaques and pictures.”

Do you ever do that? Make room, I mean? Sometimes I get rid (or let go) of stuff, but more often than not, trash turn into treasures, and junk becomes junque!

Within the past several months, I seem to have embedded the More is Merrier gene quite far into my psyche. I have (and have had for years) plenty of holiday decor, way more than enough, more than I can put up or take down by myself, more than is needed. But some of my kids and their families were coming to visit for Christmas. A quick trip to the thrift store, another short stop at the consignment store, a yard sale here and an estate sale there…before you know it, not only do 4 beds have Christmas-themed bedding, but so does the couch and the “new” rollaway. Every door – not just the front door – has a wreath and bells. Every room has at least one table-top, decorated Christmas tree (in addition to the two big Christmas trees… but in my defense, one of those trees is a Birthday Tree for a granddaughter whose special day is December 28). I can change table cloths and napkins and runners and doilies, not to mention hand towels in each bathroom, every day if I want to – without doing laundry for at least a week! The funny thing is that you can bring something home and put it up in a flash…but when it comes times to take it down and put it away, it takes days that turn into weeks to get it all sorted, wrapped, boxes, and hauled upstairs to the attic. It’s January 30 as I write this; I just saw this morning there is still one elf on top of the kitchen cabinet that I forgot.

So obviously, not every item gets displayed every year. That’s part of the fun, being able to change it up, depending on my mood, the company coming, the events planned (this year I hosted two Christmas parties in addition to the family guests), the staging at the consignment store, the idea that pops up when I watch a Hallmark Christmas movie, and my budget at the time.

My point is, I make room for what I want, and not just at Christmas time. Room has to be made for things I don’t necessarily “want,” either, but that are gifted to me (especially during the holiday season). And room also has to be made for the non-stuff, the unbidden, like memories. Since my husband died 8 years ago, I have been the one going to visit the kids for summer vacations, birthdays, and other holidays. They haven’t been here since the year he died. Eight years is a long time, but it’s not like I haven’t seen them or celebrated. But in my mind I connect his death with their last visit. So, of course, there were memories of the last time they were here and I was still in shock (he died Thanksgiving week that year).

I remember crying during gift opening that year; I probably cried other times, but I specifically remember opening a gift, a pillow my sister made for me from one of his old shirts. And I remember gasping and hugging it to me and it smelled like him and I cried out loud. This year I remember thinking how he would have loved to have all this excitement and commotion here for Christmas, but I didn’t cry. I had a very happy Christmas this year, one of the best ever, and I enjoyed telling him about it when I was recalling things days later.

What I have learned – it didn’t take me all 8 years to learn this, but the realization of this fact is newish – what I learned is that just like we make room for baubles and bowls and blankets and bigger stuff, we also make room for more memories. And that’s a huge chunk of what grief is about. We don’t “get over” someone; we don’t “get through” with the grieving process; we don’t “move on” with our lives. What we do is we make room. Room for new friends. Room for new memories. Room for new things. Room for new experiences. Room for more, even when we don’t know what the more will be.

When we grieve a loss, our attention is partly taken up with all the old memories and old dreams butting in, taking cuts to the front of the line of things we have room for in our heads. It’s a MAJOR disruption to the way things are and were supposed to be in the future. I also think that those memories aren’t just of the one who has passed away, but they are memories of other losses that chime in and sing “Me, too! Remember me! Don’t forget!” So the drawers and cubbies in our brains are full, and the overflow comes out as tears, or anger, or confusion because we have to make room for everything, sort it all out, protect some of it, let some things go, realign our expectations, wipe the dust away, and put in a current filter. Just like putting all the Christmas decorations on the dining room table to get a clear path from one room to another in the putting-away and de-Christmassing, we have a jumble of internal things that we have to make room for.

The good news is that it’s doable, although time consuming. How much you have to sort out and put away and make room for is different for everyone, depending on what you have and how you decide to go about the process. I have made room for more than new dishes or lamp stands. I’ve made room for grandchildren and dogs and friends, and happily saw that my heart expanded. I’ve made room for a camper and the adventures of travel, and saw my point of reference shift and my confidence grow. I’ve made room for retirement, and saw myself relax as my priorities shifted. I’ve made room hobbies, like more reading, and lived vicariously through characters and authors and places and times. I decided early on I was going to actively work my grieving, although I didn’t know what that work would be. Looking back, I see that a lot of it was giving myself permission to make room.

I’ve made choices about what to keep, what to pack away, what to keep on display, what to add, what to talk about, who to listen to or talk to, what filters I would use, what pressure I would put on myself to be “just me.” I still have old friends, and boxes of photographs, and shelves of favorite CDs and DVDs and books, and tchotchkes from high school and Army days, and bowls I love, and a Christmas cactus that was a gift in 1998, and a coat I wore when I was only a year old … among a trove of other treasures. I’ve made room for it all, old and new. I don’t know if there is life and Life ( think so, but who knows for sure?), but I don’t want to be stuck in this life waiting for that Life, when I could have made room for more life in the life I have now.

Some of my friends are retiring, and it has shocked them to discover they still have to have a plan for their days, that just waiting for things to happen isn’t all that great. Some of my friends have started to declutter their homes, feeling obligated to get along without things that matter to them because their kids won’t want the things they have collected or accumulated over their lifetimes. I don’t want to downsize; if anything, I might have to upsize!! I think my kids will figure out what to do with whatever possessions I leave behind, and it will be their problem (or joy?), not mine. I figure it’s the dues they pay for collecting the cash, plus the reward for having a mom with such eclectic tastes! I’m not going to waste the room I have in my memory bank worrying about what they might think 20 or 30 (God willing) years from now. I’m going to make room for the lavish abundance of the Universe.

I can’t say my grief over Kevin’s death is done, since I believe that the next “loss” will inevitably bring up past experiences and losses. What I can say is that what worked for me to regain focus, find enjoyment, and become full again was to not shut out the world but to make room for Life. Lots of room!

I had a job last year, for a while. I started March 31. In August I had to abruptly leave to respond to an SOS from my daughter on the other side of the country. In early September I went on a long-planned trip to Greece for a week. When I got back, I had a biopsy under general anesthesia, with a 6-week recovery time. I went back to work in November. I took off December because I was hosting two holiday parties and was having kids and grandkids come to stay over Christmas. Right after Christmas, I got sick with whatever isn’t Covid but feels just as bad. My return to work was pushed back another week. Last night I contacted my boss and told her I had had (too much) time to think about things, and I decided I was not going to be returning to the office. She was more than gracious. I feel a tiny bit guilty, but I also know that I am valuable, and my value lies beyond any job. The Universe is abundant – lavishly abundant, in fact. So I will accept any abundance gifted to me. Fortunately, I do not “need” the job, and so I can freely plan other things that bring me joy. I will have to figure out how to fund all that, but that’s where the abundance from the Universe will come in handy!

So this illness I’ve had/still have a little… Some of my friends are urging me to get to a doctor, and I’m not exactly resisting that; I’m just not of a mind to agree that I need medical intervention. I think I have a really bad cold, maybe complicated by an allergy of some kind, further complicated by Mars being retrograde and some solar flares and minor radiation storms. (Yeah, I don’t know what all that means exactly either, but I can’t deny the timing of the worst of my symptoms with the fact of these astrological / atmospheric phenomenons. So I choose to allow the possibility that I am affected by these X-level bursts.) If that’s not woo-woo enough for some of you, let me add that a friend brought me some amethyst crystal string lights just yesterday, and today I am feeling much better.

I tell you, it’s a better vibe to indulge myself in other kinds of an alternative health. Because I was feeling more energetic today, I also did a tarot card reading. I summoned my angel spirits and asked them to guide, protect, and provide for me. Then I asked for direction in this new year. I dealt 5 cards, one each for a message from my Intuition, my Body, my Emotions, my Spirit, and then Life.

My first card was a message from my Intuition. I turned up a Four of Fire, Completion. I interpreted this to mean that something important is reaching a conclusion. I need to let it go completely. Coincidence you might call it, but just this past Sunday, I was cleaning and reorganizing my office. A poster board had fallen behind my file cabinet. It was the board I put together for Kevin’s memorial service, 8 YEARS AGO, full of pictures of him over the span of our years together. Then I also came across a bucket of the sympathy cards I received… 8 YEARS AGO. I still had them! There were over 100. I kept the picture board, because who throws out photographs?, but I tossed the cards.

My second card was a message from my Body. Seven of Water, Excess. Ouch! I took this to mean I have not been so good to my body lately, and with the recent Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays, full of candy, cookies, and too many other carbohydrates, there was no denying I have eaten and snacked and indulged in an excess of junk food. The antidote is to take responsibility for my poor eating habits, which must be manifesting (or at least contributing) to the way I’ve been feeling. Luckily, I already finished up the potato chips yesterday and threw out the leftover candy canes and iced cookies. Due to my being sick, I haven’t been to the grocery store, so all I have brought into the house (thanks to generous friends) are cold medicine, bread, eggs, milk and cream.

The third card was Nine of Water, Joy, and it is the message from my Emotions. The door to a new world is opening, I think; I am feeling better today, and positive energy is flowing in. Joy breeds joy, so I am being told to be joyful. I have practiced the attitude of gratitude for years, but gratitude is not the same as joy. This morning I was reading a book loaned by a friend to lift my spirits, and lift it did. Nora Ephron, I Feel Bad About My Neck. I laughed out loud at some of her words. I have enjoyed her movies (Sleepless in Seattle and When Harry Met Sally to name just two), so I am interpreting this card to mean I need to find the funny and to feel the warm fuzzies. And we all know that laughter is the best medicine. But if I don’t laugh out loud, there is still immense benefit to be gained from other things that bring me joy. One of those is writing, which I haven’t done in well over a year. So I am committing to not just finding joy, but creating it.

The fourth card I drew was a message from Spirit, and it was the Five of Earth, Insecurity. Like many things, this could have many interpretations, I suppose. I choose to believe that it means I need to strengthen my sense of self, and I use to do that with meditation and yoga. You guessed it – I have not engaged in either for many months, since at least when water aerobics ended in September. Being aware of my thoughts and negative influences is the first way to neutralize them. Most people who know me would probably describe me as optimistic and adventurous, but I’ll be the first to admit I was stressed by the holiday obligations I took on. I am going to go back to regularly relaxing my mind so that everything can start looking brighter. I used to read and take long baths and listen to good music. No more needing to rush to get the dogs fed and outside and walked so I can get to work. My stars seem to be aligning!

Finally, the last card was a message from my Life: Son of Water. The Water sign deals with emotions. When I’m sick as long as I’ve been this time (nearly two weeks), it’s easy to throw a pity party for one, feeling sorry for myself. And it’s times like this when I start criticizing Kevin for dying and leaving me alone to be sick with dogs to care for, dishes to wash, and Christmas decorations to put away. It’s hard to be alone when you’re sick, even though if he was here, I’d probably be alone in the bedroom anyway. To me, this card says I need to remember to use my gifts, with compassion…to consider others as well, to act consciously. Sure, my world is mostly solitary confinement right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t reach out, still be a friend, and a grateful one at that. I already sent a thank-you text to the friend who brought soup and the books and crystal lights, and the one who stopped at the grocery store for me. I have checked in on a neighbor who had an abrupt visit to the ER last week. And I have kept my annoying cough away from the world in an effort to contain any germs still left in me.

All in all, my reading reinforces that I am already on the right track. Without the cards prompting me, I do know what to do and am doing it. Maybe I’m too good at holding on to the past, and letting go completely is requiring me to actually physically clean out the old attachments (like the sympathy cards), to take time (forcefully by being sick if I can’t do it otherwise) for positive, creative, joyful endeavors (like writing), to practice mindfulness and awareness habits (like meditation), and to share the abundance the Universe has lavishly gifted to me (writing being one way).

The new year 2023 is, of course, a man-made invention. We can start anew any day or hour we want. So it’s not January 1; it’s January 12, and I’ve already started on the new path. I hope to see you on my way.

By the way, if you support any type of alternative medicine or energy work, let’s share some ideas!