It was one year ago that I was moving through the grief of my dear friend, Marie. She was 72 years old. I fondly referred to her as Miss Marie. I’d known her for about six years, but in that time she had a significant impact on my life.

A big fan of the author and illustrator, Tasha Tudor for many years now, Marie reminded me of her in many ways. Many, including myself, considered Tasha eccentric in her way of living. She dressed in wool frocks, a scarf upon her head, and a shawl often around her shoulders. She didn’t believe in hurry yet accomplished much in her 92 years of life.

While Marie didn’t dress in wool frocks, she certainly had an eclectic flair, and she too an artist, she definitely lived to the beat of her own drum. It was something I deeply admired about her and what drew me to her like a magnet. And once we became friends, I soaked up all the wisdom I could from her.

I’m thinking of Marie today, March 4th, and the day we often associate with progress day. This day also the day of Marie’s funeral one year ago. I still recall how I awoke that day with a heart still heavy and missing her so much. As I shuffled into the kitchen I glanced at the calendar noting the day. I then glanced at the altar I’d made on my kitchen table with my favorite photo of Marie holding my dog, Gidget. 

I was swimming in sadness staring at the photo when I heard, “March forth.” It was Marie’s voice. I knew she was encouraging me to get on with life. It was just like her as that was the way she was in life. Though she suffered from depression, she was always encouraging me to make the best of life.

I devote a chapter in my latest memoir to her because she was an important part of my healing journey. 

Looking through photos of her to share here on my blog I felt the grief bubble up within me again. I tried to hold the tears back at first, but then recalled the words I’d just heard yesterday listening to a speaker on the Animal Wisdom World Summit. They came from Hanna Bracken, an animal communicator, and she said,  “Our strength comes in our dignity to shed our tears.” 

And so I let it out.

I then reflected on a post I saw on Facebook yesterday from fellow children’s book author and Wisconsinite, JoAnn Early Macken and her post that said, “It’s March Forth, the date I intentionally misspell every year to mean forward motion, not just a number. I’m reminding you now so you can take time to reflect on where you’ve gone (Hooray for you!), where you are now (Count your blessings!), and where you want to go (Luck, luck, luck!).”

And I think of my friend, Miss Marie. This is how we march forth by releasing the grief and pain when it comes and honoring it for reminding us that they are vital in understanding life. While I’ll always miss her, I have learned to be with her in a new way. And I want her to know that I have marched forth carrying her wisdom within my heart each step of the way.

xo,

Barbara