I love the month of May, and not just because it’s my birthday month. I’ve only ever lived in the northeast or in Seattle — with the exception of my two years in Panama — and May is when the season really turns. Temperatures get warmer, there’s lots of sun, the days lengthen, and there’s the prospect of the rest of spring and summer ahead. By contrast, I could let November go by in a flash, and the short, cold dark days of February make me want to skip the month altogether.
A moment in time is just that, and they go by at the same pace — neither faster nor slower. But that’s not how it seems. I spent time recently with a friend whose husband’s cancer has come roaring back. He’s being treated, but the prognosis is not good. She asked me how long it took after Jerry’s death for me to emerge from the worst grief, and I said honestly it took about a year. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t functioning — I had to function because I had to take over the business — but I wasn’t anywhere near equilibrium. She said she hopes acute grief will go faster for her, because she’s doing so much grieving now.
We all respond differently to both joy and grief, and the pace of healing certainly varies. But time ticks by, moment by moment, at the same pace for all of us. You can’t speed up grief, nor can you hold on to joy. My birthday celebrations this year whizzed by far too quickly. I suspect my friend’s acute grief will last longer than she hopes.
Have you had experiences in your life when time seemed to move too quickly, or too slowly? And just for the heck of it, what’s your favorite month? 🙂