T The Year of Becoming

On a brighter note, I managed to pass my probation today as a store manager, something of which I am quietly proud.

It feels like a small triumph, especially given that the past few weeks have felt rather like walking through my days in a daze, unable to focus, broken and adrift. Everything that has been happening with my grandmother has made life immeasurably harder in so many ways: harder to develop on my personal journey, harder to concentrate on my work, harder to remain positive, and harder simply to function on a daily level.

And yet, I believe this trial has also given me something, a certain strength and stamina to press forward, to force myself to be better, to become more resilient, to practise more self-love and self-care than ever before.

It has also been made more difficult by my decision to leave behind the antidepressants I had taken religiously for the past four years.

Yes, they helped me through the darkest periods of my life, but the price was immense. I was entirely disconnected from my feelings; I could be successful on so many levels, yet I was never operating at my fullest potential, it took away from me a good chunk of awareness and possibilities.

This year is the year of changes for me. I have resolved to take no medication for my anxiety and depression, to stop vaping, to develop my emotional awareness and intelligence further.

And unfortunately, this is also the year when our family must navigate a season of grief, as the most important member of our family, the heart of everything,struggles for her dear life.

I find myself praying each day that whatever the outcome may be, it will be the best for her. Because even if she were to survive this, which, at this point, seems impossible, the dementia would slowly claim her, and that would be even more painful for her and for everyone who loves her.

Yes, the doctors made a grave mistake. Yes, it cannot be undone. But I cannot help wondering whether this is still the kinder path than the alternative: that she would soon cease to be herself, never again.

To spend the remainder of her life amongst family members she no longer recognises. To see herself one day as her glorious, youthful self, and the next morning wake to find an eighty-eight-year-old face staring back from the mirror.

How painful, how terrible an outcome that would be.

Years ago, I made my grandmother a promise, and thus far, I have kept it: I will be a fierce advocate for those who suffer from this deadly condition. My workplace offers the opportunity to become a dementia ambassador, should I pass the examinations, and I intend to publish my dissertation on dementia care publicly, to reach as many people as it can. I will continue volunteering in the field, as I have done before.

I will make her proud. I have promised, and I will keep that promise. I will live up to her memory and her legacy.

Here is a little prayer to Hekate, in Hungarian and in English, asking the Goddess of Death and Night to help her in her passing.

Hekate, a Másvilág lángjának őrzője, Hármas istennő, hívom neved szózatát: Szűz , Anya, öregasszony, ki minden utat jársz, Vezesd nagymamámat e végső napokon át.

Szűz, hozd a fáklyát, mi megvilágítja az éjt, Hadd emlékezzen ifjúságának könnyű lángjára, A lányra, aki volt, csodálattal a szemében, Mutasd meg neki a szépséget, mi az átjárón túl várja.

Anyaként burkold őt gyengéd gondoskodásodba, Csitítgasd fájdalmát kezekkel, melyek értik A szeretet, az élet és az elengedés súlyát, Járj mellette, hozz neki szelíd békét.

öregasszony, a szent kapu bölcs őrzője, Te, ki tudod, mi rejlik az élet terhén túl, Vezesd kezét ősi tudással és kegyelemmel ama a gyönyörű helyre vigasztalásul.

Az útkereszteződések úrnője, a kulcsok viselője , Világítsd meg a sötét ösvényt, merre lép, Fussanak kutyáid gyengéden oldala mellett, Lámpása, és hűséges vezetője légy.

Az éjszaka, mágia, Hold királynője, Vezesd őt gyengéden, hiszen az elengedés fáj, Fájdalomból békébe, árnyékból fénybe, Áldott Hekate, óvd őt ezen az éjszakán át.

Hekate, keeper of the threshold’s flame, Three-formed goddess, I call upon your name : Maiden, Mother, Crone who walks all ways, Guide my grandmother through these final days.

As Maiden, bring the torch that pierces night, Let her remember youth’s unburdened light, The girl she was, with wonder in her eyes, Show her the beauty waiting past these skies.

As Mother, wrap her in your tender care, Comfort her pain with hands that know to bear The weight of love, of living, and release, Walk beside her, bring her gentle peace.

As Crone, wise keeper of the sacred gate, You who know what lies beyond life’s weight, Take her hand with ancient knowing grace, Lead her softly to that beautiful place.

Lady of crossroads, holder of the keys, Illuminate her path beneath dark trees, Let your hounds howl gently at her side, Be her lantern, be her faithful guide.

Queen of the night, of magic, moon, and star, Carry her gently, though the way seems far, From pain to peace, from shadow into light, Blessed Hekate, protect her through this night.