As I begin this blog, I am unsure where it is going.  My mind is like a jigsaw with the bits all over the place.  I attended the second funeral in a week yesterday, both were of young men. One I attended as a parent in support of the parents who I went to school with.  I wanted to quietly acknowledge their pain.  It’s a southern thing perhaps.  I was in the area and felt magnetically pulled to attend.  I walked back to where I was staying via my parents’ grave and had a quiet word, asking them to watch over our girls so they may outlive me by a long, long time.  I realise the futility of such a plea, but I cannot begin to imagine that level of pain.  My brain simply won’t allow it.

The second I attended was of a friend I had worked with.  He was almost half my age.  An unlikely friendship but we each saw something special in the other person.  Not hard to do from my perspective.  He was a gentle, generous and intelligent guy.  Very humble about his achievements and very quick to champion those of others.  He had no idea the impact he had on people.  We were so very fortunate to have known him.  I appreciate that we tend to talk people up after death, but he was beyond awesome, and it is possibly the only thing he was clueless about.  If his mother, brother and partner ever read this I hope they get a little comfort.  He spoke so highly of you all.  He lit up.

Grief is so hard on those closest.  I had the luxury of being able to be quiet with my memories, but it wasn’t the case for those closest. The relentless need for planning when really most of us when faced with this just want to hide under the duvet and press pause.  If only.  I hope they get some quiet time soon.  They are blessed with a wonderful support network so not alone, but grief isn’t something we can delegate.  Our grief is our own, uniquely our own.

We are all going to die but too often the way in which death occurs is traumatic.

Death can be cruel, scary and painful for the person dying and for the people who love them.

It is also often random. For many people grieving the way in which the death occurred is traumatic and takes up so much space that it is all they can think about.  It often leaves lasting imprints on health and wellbeing, physically and mentally.

I wish I had known the power of the techniques I now use with clients back when I needed them. The techniques don’t remove grief.  Grief is a natural human emotion, and we are supposed to feel sadness and loss when someone we love dies.  It is the cost of love.  The trauma of the type of death doesn’t need to linger long term and hijack us though.  Often it comes in the form of guilt, regret, shame, anger, blame, panic attacks etc.  Parents and partners, I have worked with have shared that they are now able to be sad and grieve for their loved one and at the same time have space to be present with their other children or loved ones.  They generally report more ability to focus, less exhaustion and better sleep.  Panic attacks diminish or disappear. You don’t lose the memories of what is important, or love them less, rather they are given a higher presence and your memories centre on their lives, the beautiful experiences, the impact they had on you…  The stuff you want to feel and be top of mind.

Quantum science tells us that we are 99.9% energy, so I like to think that their energy lives on but without the limitations of a human existence.  Some cultures believe the soul remains near loved ones for 49 days.  I rather like that concept too.

In closing, grief is shite. It has its own timetable which it doesn’t disclose.  Grief won’t be ignored or rushed.  It can be different on any given day and even multiple differences within a day.  It hurts.  It’s draining and exhausting, but it is unavoidable and is the cost of love.  I’d never want to live a life without love.  Would you?