Reflections on Grief and Growth from an SLR Therapist

By Becky Day

Each year, I am entrusted to write the December blog post. Technically this is only the second time, but it feels particularly important to select a meaningful, thoughtful topic to end the year. December has a way of gathering all the loose threads of the past 11 months and bringing them to the forefront; celebrations, regrets, moments we should have enjoyed but instead rushed through. The holidays can also arouse mixed emotions, particularly for anyone who’s experienced hardship, isolation, estrangement, or loss. Each holiday carries certain assumptions. Thanksgiving asks us what we are thankful for. Christmas and Hanukkah come with the social expectations of gift-giving. And at New Years, we’re encouraged to reflect on the past year and make a resolution for the new one.

Typically, I’ve looked forward to the holidays, even though I wasn’t immune to experiencing the same exhaustion or stress. I’ve also never been someone who’s been inclined to make New Year’s resolutions or spend much time reflecting on the year. This year is different—2025 brought both the greatest gift and the deepest loss of my life. In June, I married my best friend! We spent an incredible weekend surrounded by everyone we love, who came to Vermont to celebrate the beginning of our life together. Tragically, six weeks later, we received the devastating news that my father had pancreatic cancer. Two weeks later he was gone.

My dad was a storyteller, writer, poet, photographer and seeker. After he passed, I began going through stacks of his writings. Throughout his life he sought to understand our connection to nature and was curious about religion and culture, primarily among Native American peoples. He mourned the disconnection between humans and the earth. Reliance on technology frustrated and confused him. These observations and musings were at the heart of his poems. I am like my dad in that way, inquisitive and questioning. Which was probably part of the impetus behind why I became a therapist, a curiosity to understand others. Now, in my clinical role at the Ranch, I get to see the benefits that come from connection, community and contact with the land. An appreciation for those elements that he inspired and modeled.

This year taught me that time is finite. An unfortunate truth we tend to realize in retrospect. In respect to that, I’d like to offer a few questions for your own reflection: What do you want to carry forward and what do you want to release or leave behind? Where did you create time for yourself, and what did that allow you to accomplish? What took your time but misaligned with who you are or want to be? Who showed up for you in meaningful ways this year? How did time together strengthen that relationship? What moments or experiences bring out the best in you, and how can you make time for more of those things?

Wishing everyone a happy and healthy New Year.

 

What is Time?

 

The tick of a clock?
In a quiet room
Or
Rising sun
sunset

 

The sweep of
A second hand
Or Flowers following
The Light

 

Minutes per
Hour
Or
Snow inching
Up

 

Hours in
A day
Or
Shadows
Passing

 

Days becoming
Weeks
Or
The child
Begins to crawl

 

Weeks turning to
Months
Or
A seed
Births its fruit

 

Months evolving to
Years
Or
Birth yielding
To death

 

Time is
A CIRCLE

 

Ever going
ROUND

 

Seeking the place
It started from

 

Never!
To be FOUND

 

By Theodore W. Day