A few years ago, I bought a piece of art that reminds me of a Phoenix.    As a refresher on Greek mythology, the Phoenix, according to Wikipedia, is an immortal bird that cyclically regenerates, or is otherwise born again.  The phoenix obtains new life by rising from the ashes of its predecessor.

The Phoenix reminds me of both my father and Brian, my late husband. 

When I was a young girl, my father went through some very serious, life-threatening health issues.  From that point on, my father began to relate to the mythic Phoenix.  He recovered from a procedure that was, at the time, considered something that you did not recover from.  For a while he even went on to provide support for other patients who were undergoing the same, or similar, procedures.  He felt that he had, in a manner of thinking, risen from the ashes of his own circumstances to be regenerated in a way that provided hope to others.

The link to my late husband is a little less dramatic, but no less important to me, as his ashes are in a coffee tin.

When Brian passed away, a part of me died with him.  The part of me that died is now figuratively mixed in with the ashes that rest in that coffee tin.  Like the Phoenix, and my father, and countless other survivors, I have been born again from the ashes.  Yes, it is metaphorical.  Yes, it is personal.  And yet, it is significant.  Grief comes in many forms.  Grief comes from deep loss.  Grief can come from the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, the loss of a physical ability, the loss of a dream.  The losses that can bring on grief are endless, and yet, they are significant.  If you think about it, most loss is not related to the loss of a person.  Even in the case of a lost loved one, the side grief, if you will, is not personal.  For example; when my husband passed, I also grieved the loss of my best friend, my lover, my confidant, the father of my children, the person who walked the dog, took out the trash, and mowed the lawn, among other things.  I lost the security of knowing who I would spend the rest of my life with.  I lost the surety of knowing who I would fall asleep next to and wake up beside.  For me, it was the loss of the relationship that impacted me the most.  I knew that I would lose Brian to cancer.  I knew that I would have to start taking my own garbage to the trash can.  I did not know that I would lose such a huge part of my identity as a wife, partner and friend. 

The ashes that result from grief can burn hotter than anything we have ever experienced.  Sometimes they even continue to smolder as a reminder of what was lost.  But they can also provide us with a chance to grow again.  Out of the ashes we are even able to love again. We can be like the Phoenix and regenerate from our despair.  With baby steps we can start to once again live our lives instead of hiding in our sorrows.  Personally, one step at a time, I am moving forward and experiencing new things.  Together, step by step we can rebuild our lives into something beautiful.