Haven't been having such an easy time of it lately--understatement! There were the Christmas and New Year blues, but more than that, there was trouble with my family, and then the difficulty on working on a response to the Health Ombudsman about the report into Catherine's death.
I suppose what I want to say here--the reason for writing today--is that grief is not a linear journey. You don't get in a vehicle and travel in a straight line, passing one point after the other, or those nicely packaged "stages" that are sometimes referred to. According to that model, finally you get there, to that place of peace where you are reconciled to the loss. I wish it was like that, but it isn't.
No, grief is spiral. You come to a gloomy, dismal point, you think you've gone past it, but then things happen and you find yourself there again.
An old friend has been posting comments on this blog, so this has led me to re-read some of my posts from a year ago. I just read about "finding joy", and at the moment I can barely imagine what that felt like! But it was me who wrote it!!
It's odd the things that knock me for a loop. Over Christmas I watched the final of "Strictly Come Dancing" which is a bit of silly entertainment TV that I quite enjoy. I consider Strictly as "safe" viewing as there's nothing about death or mental illness or disaster which would drag me down into a sad train of thought.--One of the hazards of film, television and news watching.
But even Strictly wasn't safe after all. Because there was a young woman, dancing beautifully, and there was her mum sitting watching proudly and emotionally. There, just there, is that relationship I miss: Mother and daughter, proud and happy. Mother and daughter, together. Mother and daughter, making memories.
I don't have enough memories of Pax and Catherine. There can never be enough, because it should be the other way round. I should be gone, they should be the ones who will be remembering their mum.
I suppose what I want to say here--the reason for writing today--is that grief is not a linear journey. You don't get in a vehicle and travel in a straight line, passing one point after the other, or those nicely packaged "stages" that are sometimes referred to. According to that model, finally you get there, to that place of peace where you are reconciled to the loss. I wish it was like that, but it isn't.
No, grief is spiral. You come to a gloomy, dismal point, you think you've gone past it, but then things happen and you find yourself there again.
An old friend has been posting comments on this blog, so this has led me to re-read some of my posts from a year ago. I just read about "finding joy", and at the moment I can barely imagine what that felt like! But it was me who wrote it!!
It's odd the things that knock me for a loop. Over Christmas I watched the final of "Strictly Come Dancing" which is a bit of silly entertainment TV that I quite enjoy. I consider Strictly as "safe" viewing as there's nothing about death or mental illness or disaster which would drag me down into a sad train of thought.--One of the hazards of film, television and news watching.
But even Strictly wasn't safe after all. Because there was a young woman, dancing beautifully, and there was her mum sitting watching proudly and emotionally. There, just there, is that relationship I miss: Mother and daughter, proud and happy. Mother and daughter, together. Mother and daughter, making memories.
I don't have enough memories of Pax and Catherine. There can never be enough, because it should be the other way round. I should be gone, they should be the ones who will be remembering their mum.
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