I’m done. Are you done? I’m done.

The sun is out today. Not a small feat in New York City this year, the first time my teens have heard the term  ‘Nor’easter’.

It’s almost here — the end of March, the beginning of April. Spring is pushing through and with it, its hopefulness. But before we launch into spring fever, spring cleaning, and spring break…a word.

March is not my favorite month. It’s a time when I first experienced overwhelming grief. The kind that takes your breath away and makes no promises as to when you will get it back. A time when I experienced loss. Of relationships whose time had come but the parting of which left me torn and in pain - wondering if I could have made it work and grieving what once was.

March is rough.

Since childhood it has been a time when there was just one more snowstorm that I could not bear. My friend Christine tells me that Northerners suffer this time because historically, it was when all the food you had stored for winter began to run out, weeks before the new supply would show its buds. It’s a time of survival.

It is exactly the time that I want to end, as quickly as possible. Because of all the glory that awaits me just a few days away: my favorite holiday, a sparkling clean house and outdoor runs in the sun.

And yet.

March is when I get to feel the parts of myself that haven’t been felt in awhile. It’s when I am most true with myself and the most vulnerable. It’s in this downtime, this less busy time, this unnamed time, that I get to feel how much pain I overstep, how much I mourn what I have not achieved, how old I really am, how tired I really am, how much my mind, my body and my spirit have endured - not just this year but all of these years. It is a time where I feel the weight of my life, of my body, of my choices.

In April I may feel hope, in May I may feel joy, in June I may feel free; but right now, in March, I feel pain. Loss. Grief. Sadness. Regret. Insecurity. And fear.

Mostly fear.

That one day this great adventure that I cherish so much, will be over. And that regardless of what I try to do to prolong it, that day is inevitable. March is when I feel the heavy truth, the one that applies for both great joy and great sorrow — that this too shall pass.

Joy, raucous laughter and singing from the rooftops are a celebrated part of life. But so are sadness, anguish, and a cry-your-heart-out session. Making room for all of our emotions doesn’t make us less perfect, it just makes us bigger, broader, more spacious. Fuller of life in all of its offerings.

We’ve got a few more days of March left. Soon, our days will be flooded with light and filled with activity. Just before that bell rings, I invite you to check in with yourself and see - is there any emotion you have left unfelt? Any tear left unshed? And heartbreak left ignored? Any grieving left unattended?

If so, this one’s for you. Know that you are not alone. Take your time to feel whatever it is you need to feel. To hurt, to grieve, to cry, to mourn, to regret, to anguish, to agonize, to yearn, to fear. Take your time, for your time is now.

April can wait.