In Grief, but Also Falling in Love with Life Again

It’s 10:10. It’s Tuesday morning. According to the Greek calendar, Triti, or the third day of the week, because here, in the traditional calendar, the week begins on Sunday. Moreover, I have just walked a kilometer and a half to a café. I took my car to the mechanic for repairs.

I haven’t had to do that for the last seventeen years because my partner was a mechanic. Now I’m the one with my head under the bonnet, figuring out that the power steering fluid is below the minimum. Or that I should have the engine belt replaced too.

Lately, there have been many occasions we used to take part in as a whole family, or situations where I could rely on my partner. Even something like car repairs. Or, for example, oversleeping this morning and having to get the children dressed and take them to school in 20 minutes. It would be so much easier with two of us. There is a lot to carry.

Last week was a public holiday in Greece; we celebrated “Oxi” Day. A year ago, my partner and I stood side by side, watching the children take part in the parade. This time, I had to stand alone.

Grief has an enormous effect on you physically, too. I couldn’t bear to be there. My stomach cramps up, and I feel like throwing up. Tears flow silently and uncontrollably. I felt terribly hollow.

Of course, these situations affect the children too. You see your son desperately wiping away tears as he stands in line with the other children. Later, when I ask him whether he was feeling bad, he angrily says something got in his eye. I wish I knew how to better teach my children to share their feelings. This northern tendency to keep our feelings to ourselves and not share them is something I definitely need to root out. The evening culminated, just before midnight, in my eldest daughter crying her heart out for an hour and breaking down. In that moment, I decided we were all so exhausted, mentally and physically, that the next day would be a day of skipping school.

November. One of my favorite months here in Greece, unlike in Estonia, where I loathed November in its thousand cold shades of grey. The sea is still warm. The weather feels summery to me, and being active outdoors is incredibly enjoyable because it’s no longer too hot. Everything quietens down. The locals have more time; the tourist streams have stopped. There is time to sit, share food around a table, and talk. It is very strange that, while living through the utter tragedy of your life, you can also begin to feel a little joy in life again and enjoy it.

Yesterday, my phone brought up a memory. I watched a video of my partner on the trampoline with the children, doing his tricks and flips. What a shame to lose that talent. And at the same time, I found myself wondering why the hell we hold ourselves back so much in life. We worry too much about worldly things. About our reputation. What other people think. About things. We shouldn’t be so attached to things. That fucking motocross track! For those who don’t know the background, losing it played far too big a role in our lives.

Watching that video, I felt that after what happened, I have all the more reason to live. All the more desire to feel alive and take everything I can from this earthly journey. Experiences, adventures, feelings. To be alive and to live! And not take everything too seriously. After what happened, my priorities in life have undoubtedly changed a great deal.

I want to make it my goal not to hold myself back. Not to take everything too seriously or to heart. To choose to walk away, with my head held high and with courage, from situations and people that don’t support me. To learn to say no. And when I say yes, to say it with all my heart. To stay true to my principles. And to keep fighting. One more day. One more week. But to learn to enjoy the journey again, too. I want to feel alive.

I’m grateful to be here, where I am. Somehow, in this environment, it’s easier to keep a more positive outlook. Simply to be grateful every day that I can pick the world’s purest and freshest pomegranate from a tree, that I’m warm, that the sun is shining and the sky is blue. Someone recently left me such a beautiful comment: always stand facing the sun, and the shadows and worries will stay behind you. I’m hopeful. But I undoubtedly need to find a way out of this brain fog and get back to taking action.

I want to hear what is making life difficult for you right now. Believe me, sharing and talking helps.

A few words of wisdom that have helped me lately:

*Nobody else is responsible; only you and you alone. You are your hell and heaven too.

*If you can overthink the worst, why can´t you overthink the best?

*The person who made the map had no map.

*Get your spark back. You´ve been through enough. Now it´s time to rise.

*Starting late is only embarrassing if you still think life is a race.

Cheers!

If you enjoy what I share and would like to support us on our journey, you can buy my book or send a little coffee money my way. Thank you for being here with us. 🤍

📖 My book: https://itsmemaria.com/ebooks/
☕ Coffee money: Maria-Maarja Karumets IBAN: EE021010010333888018