When grief comes knocking…….

Widowed at 22 years of age. Yes. That was me. I wouldn’t normally mention it but don’t you find that when, later, something happens, you re-visit an earlier experience.

My best friend died this year.  He had an alcohol problem, and we handled it together. I took him to all his appointments, said everything I could to help him want to live. But there were the twin sadnesses of mental health and alcohol. It was a downward spiral.

I can’t tell you how much I miss him. We were neighbours, knew one another for 10 years, and had 6 holidays together.

Yes. I thought I knew grief. I always felt that my early experience of loss contributed to my empathy.  Which, of course it did.

It’s a long time since I was 22. Did I feel this bad then? Yes. I did. I remember now.

Thinking of the families I have spent time with, it is absolutely clear in my mind that the person they are missing is with them all the time.  It’s the person that they want to speak to after a day of dealing with the admin and legalities of the situation. That’s the person they want to tell about their day

“I wouldn’t normally mention it” I said earlier. Really, I suppose, I’ve studied and researched the subject of grief and conducted hundreds of funerals, but it’s that recent experience that is with me. That experience has reminded me how it feels to lose somebody who is very special. 

But it’s not about me. It’s about you. Telling you this won’t change the way I deal with families. As I said earlier, I won’t mention it. I won’t need to. The families will know that I know.