Ash Wednesday Blues

Normally, I love Lent. Normally, Lent and Advent are my two favorite seasons of the church year. And I was all about Advent this year, had my planning done early, did some cool creative stuff that I was totally stoked about.

But I have been dreading Lent. For weeks. No energy, no creativity, no interest in planning for it whatsoever. I have done the bare minimum to prepare for it, and have become noticeably anxious and agitated over it the past couple weeks as it's drawn ever closer.

And yesterday I finally figured out why: it's because last year's Lent was so awful. Not in terms of worship and planning and all that, but in terms of what was happening to my people, all the dustiness that was afflicting them. Two days after Ash Wednesday, Peg had a major stroke, a few days after that, Lily died, and on and on it went - in sum, I think I spent 30 of the 40 days visiting someone at one hospital or another.

And as another Lent rapidly approached, it brought with it the memories of all the awfulness we lived through in this season last year, brought with it some terrors that this Ash Wednesday, too, would kick off another cycle of pain and misery.

And the thing is - the actual anniversary of these events is still a couple weeks away. Lent started earlier this year, but in my mind these horrible happenings are so closely tied to Ash Wednesday that I'm already reliving the grief now.

That is the one problem with these movable feasts - because they are not tied to a solid date on the calendar, they can draw out grief and anxiety at weird times, in weird ways. Like, Grandpa Ed died solidly in Lent. Even though Lent moves around, there is no way that the anniversary of his death will ever fall outside of Lent, so my grief for him doesn't take me by surprise or come in multiple waves, because it always happens "when it's supposed to." But in the year that Nana Ciccone died, she died 10 days after Easter, we buried her 2 days before my 30th birthday, and I came back to PA just in time for the bishop's retreat. The following year, my birthday and the actual day of her death stayed the same, obviously, but Easter was several weeks earlier, and bishop's retreat was also moved, and because I associated her death with all these events, the grief hit me anew with each one, and basically meant I was sad and irritable for about two months straight.

And so now too with Lily - even though we are still a couple weeks away from the anniversary of her death, because I associate it so strongly with Ash Wednesday, grief is already messing with me.

At this rate, it's going to be a long Lent, no matter what happens this year. . .

Peace,
C.