When the Time Was Right
About a year ago, I was talking to my mom about my sister Lauren.
She told me that while going through Lauren’s belongings after she died, she had found a beautiful necklace: a heart-shaped pendant with garnet, Lauren’s birthstone, and diamonds.
My mom knew exactly who she wanted to give it to. Amy was one of Lauren’s childhood friends. She loved Lauren deeply, and Lauren’s death had affected her deeply.
But every time my mom took the necklace out of the drawer to give it to Amy, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Back in the drawer it went.
As the years passed, giving it to Amy started to feel awkward, too. So the necklace stayed there.
When my mom told me, I knew what I wanted to do.
“Give me the necklace. I’ll make sure Amy gets it.”
I understood why my mom had thought of Amy all those years ago. Someone who loved Lauren could wear the necklace, care for it, and talk about her. Amy was that person.
The next time I visited my mom, I asked her to pull it out. I took it from her before she could think about it too long and put it back in the drawer.
Then I reached out to Amy. I told her I had something to give her, but I didn’t say what it was. We tried to get together, and our schedules kept getting in the way.
Until yesterday.
It was the first day of the Jewish New Year. Amy’s temple and mine are housed in the same building, and I realized we would both be there.
I texted her when I parked. As I walked up, she was walking out.
There we were, face to face. I could already feel the emotion coming up, so I took a breath and told her the story.
I watched her eyes fill with tears. Then mine did too. We stood on the front stoop of the temple, crying together and remembering Lauren.
Then I handed Amy the necklace.
That’s when she told me something I hadn’t known. Years ago, during a dance training, she had picked up a small talisman that reminded her of Lauren. She carried it whenever she traveled. Over time, it broke, and Amy kept gluing it back together.
Now she has something she can wear around her neck and keep close to her heart.
I’ve been thinking about what it took for that necklace to reach her.
My mom knew she wanted Amy to have it. She just couldn’t be the one to hand it over. When she finally told me, I could help with the part that felt too hard for her.
After I let her know Amy had it, my mom let out a huge sigh.
Like she could breathe again.
Sometimes we need someone else to help us do the thing we can’t quite do alone. A friend. A family member. A therapist. Someone who can sit with us, or take one small part off our shoulders.
What might you be carrying that someone could help you with?
It also took more than 28 years for Amy to receive that necklace. Maybe it could have happened sooner. But grief doesn’t work on a schedule. Sometimes something is too painful to deal with, so we put it in a drawer. From a survival perspective, that makes sense.
Then time passes, and opening the drawer can feel even harder.
Maybe, when we’re ready, we can open it just a little. Let some air in. Notice what we’ve been holding.
And I keep thinking about the timing. Once I knew about the necklace, I wanted Amy to have it right away. The universe had other plans. I kept trying to make it happen, and then there she was, walking out of the temple as I walked up.
I can make plans and take the next step. I’m also learning that I can’t force every moment to arrive when I want it to.
As I begin this new year, my heart feels a little more open. Lauren’s necklace is no longer sitting in a drawer. It’s being worn and loved by one of her closest friends.
So I’ll leave you with the question I’ve been asking myself:
What drawers are you keeping shut?
Go with Power,
Jason
Somatic Grief Therapist
Sometimes the thing we’ve carried for years moves forward because someone we love is willing to carry it with us.
Try this Simple Practice:
Three Small Steps You Can Try
1. Notice What’s There
Think of one thing you’ve been carrying or putting off. Take a breath and notice what happens in your body when you think about it. You don’t need to act on it today.
2. Ask for a Hand
Who could sit beside you, make the call with you, or take on one part that feels too hard? Asking for help counts as taking a step.
3. Let the Timing Be Human
Choose one small action you can take now, if you’re ready. If you’re not, give yourself permission to wait without calling yourself behind.