Grieving for you

At the end of the first year of being without you, I marvelled that I was still standing.  I was exhausted from the effort.  I felt that everyone else had moved on, except for my Mum of course, who appeared to be lost to me, and to her Grandchildren, and to herself.  That said, there was something about reaching the ‘one year anniversary of your death’  that showed me that I could continue to move through life regardless of my sadness and suffering. 

We had continued to settle in to the house we had moved into only a few months before your death, we had painted the walls and planted up the garden.  New schools had been chosen for the boys.  We had carried on.  Some of the saddest times came when the milestones in our lives occurred, like the boys starting their new schools, and you were no longer there to share in those moments.  However, after twelve months of floundering, of experiencing feelings that presented themselves from within me in either glorious technicolour, bigger and brighter than ever before, or in grey scale, sort of numbed and subdued, the pendulum of my moods slowed a little.

The second year of life without you, saw me searching for new purpose and meaning in my own life.  I wanted to stretch and grow.  I wanted to live without fear.  I attacked life head on.  I was ramped up and raring to go.  I threw myself into building and running a new business.  It felt good to focus on something new.   I became increasingly busy.  I pushed myself to work harder, for longer, I never stopped moving.   I wondered if it was ‘normal’ to still feel so sad and frustrated and angry….mostly at myself, too often directed to those closest to me.  By the end of that second year, I had recognised that my experience of life wasn’t what I wanted it to be but I didn’t know how to change it.   I was too busy but I daren’t give myself permission to slow down.  I was ignoring my own needs, it was as if I had forgotten how to look after myself.

This time last year, three years after you died.  I had given myself a break.  After seeking the support of a coach, who became a mentor and a friend, someone who had created and held a space for me to let go, I had closed my business and had finally allowed myself to go slow.  When that happened and I stopped doing all of the things that I didn’t want to do, I found that I was hardly doing anything at all.   I went into a much needed hibernation period and discovered that there are very few things beyond looking after ourselves and our children, that we actually need to do.  I felt some concern that I would never get started again with anything beyond looking after myself and my loved ones.  But,by leaning into the feeling, and trusting the process, I saw that life continues to move forward with or without us efforting and pushing.  We are a part of the natural world and we continue to evolve and grow at the natural pace of life.  We are, where we are, when we are there, and there is nowhere else for us to be.

Today marks the four year anniversary of your death.  As I sit alone for a few moments - my eldest son, The Teen still sleeping in bed, my Beloved out with our younger son, The Seven Year Old – I reflect on where I am now. I see that I have found new levels of gratitude and compassion.  For myself and for others. My Mum has returned to herself and to us, living a different life to the one she loved and shared with you, but not a lesser one.  I acknowledge that my mood can still swoop and soar, to depths and heights that I once feared, but that I now embrace fully.  Life isn’t always easy but I wouldn’t give up a moment of the adventure it brings. 

Dad, you are a part of me.  I am made of your love which continues to grow and thrive in all the ways that you showed me were possible when you walked alongside me upon this beautiful planet.  You are with me still.  And I am happier now than I ever thought possible.

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Previous posts about my journey with grief can be found here and here.