Coming through a season of grief

Spring is in full bloom in Kitchener-Waterloo. My raspberry bushes have exploded with leaves and flowers, my lawn is buzzing with pollinators on the dandelions, and I spent the May long weekend rehabilitating my garden following several seasons of neglect.

Like my plants, I am also re-emerging after several months of grief that seemed to follow the cycles of the seasons. Last fall, my Dad and I checked his online health portal for what we thought would be routine results that would clear him for a long-awaited surgery. Instead, we were confronted by a cancer diagnosis. As the autumn leaves were turning, our attention turned to getting a clear diagnosis and treatment plan.

We spent the winter facing a litany of appointments and tests, and advocating for the care my Dad needed to battle cancer and manage several other health challenges. Unfortunately, his battle ended before it really began, and he passed away in mid-March, just as winter was promising to give way to spring.

As Dad's primary caregiver, I was by his side for nearly every appointment, reviewing test results, processing all the news and decisions presented by our healthcare team, researching the medical terms and the community resources needed to take our next steps, and holding his hand through his final moments.

These past several months have been heavy work. My Dad had always been a pillar in my life and critical source of support, and suddenly I was in the role of caregiver and decision-maker. This, on top of the caregiving I do, alongside my husband, as parents to two school-aged kids. I'm grateful to have been able to prioritize this care work - I can't imagine doing anything other than being by my Dad's side. And I was able to support myself through these tough seasons by leaning into the flexibility I have with my other roles. As a coach, I stopped taking on new clients or publishing content. As a professor, I only took online teaching opportunities. And when my Dad's care reached its peak, I contacted my program manager at the college to request compassionate leave so that I had the space I needed to focus on my Dad's needs and then my own when I was grieving his passing. I leaned on family and friends when I needed dinner on the table or a kid brought to kung fu practice. I had a whole village surrounding me on this journey, and I'm so grateful that I leaned into their support. The person I was three or four years ago couldn't have fathomed taking so much time away from work or asking for so much support. I'm grateful for the privilege I have and the insights I've gained that allowed me to give myself the space I needed.

As spring has progressed, I've been slowly coming back to many of the things that I paused during the intense seasons of supporting my Dad. I've been reconnecting with people over coffee. I've been meeting and onboarding new coaching clients. I'm teaching again and doing curriculum development. I've also launched Gender Equity Tech, a networking group for women and gender expansive folks navigating their careers in the local tech community. Each step I take to reconnect with my passions and my communities brings me joy and confidence that I have what I need to move through this season of grief and into a new season with more wisdom, compassion, and gratitude as the fruits of the heavy work of these past months.