Two Years Since

Today marks two years
since my mom passed away.
Although, in reality,
it feels like a lifetime ago.

I can still recall the events of that day… 
but they are starting to blur.

Did you know that our memories
aren’t stored like perfect snapshots? 
Instead, our brains rebuild them
each time we recall an event.

It’s like trying to put together a puzzle
using pieces that aren’t always complete
or may have changed over time.

Some pieces fade,
others wear down,
and sometimes new pieces
are added that weren’t part
of the original moment at all.

This is why memories
can become blurry or inconsistent
as time passes.

It’s completely normal
for the image to not be as clear
as it once was.

What I remember so vividly, though,
is the feeling of grief and devastation -
that earth-shattering moment
that nothing could prepare me for.

The moment when my life exploded,
and I felt too weak from the shock waves
to get back up.

That, I remember well. 

But, in a way, I was lucky…
Because over the course of my life,
I had accumulated so much information
and understanding about death and loss.
I knew I was safe to experience it.

I had the knowledge to know that 
I was NOT going crazy… 
I was grieving. 

And in that moment,
I felt deeply grateful for the courage
of the women who had shared
their grief before me.

Who showed me grief
in its true colors…

Mothers pushing
empty strollers in the park.
Wives trying to dig up
their loved ones’ bodies
from their gravesites.

Heartbroken women
howling and screaming,
releasing their pain in the only way
their hearts knew how.

All in the name of love.

In that moment,
I understood them.

And I was grateful
that they hadn’t hidden their pain.
I was grateful they had shown me
the intensity of loss.

That this was what grief
could look like!

And through it all,
I came to realise…
Grief may have broken me open,
but it also invited me to rebuild. 

Piece by piece,
just like those fading memories, 
I found the strength to put myself
back together again. 

And now, I know…
I am whole, not because I have every piece, 
but because I’ve learned how to live with 
the spaces in between.

With love, 
Elina Janevica

Imagery / My mother remembered in flowers, stories and candlelight, 2023 /
Photo by Elina and Her Stardust