07827 440982

We sadly lost my darling Dad in early January this year following a brave battle with Parkinsons and digestive complications. It was a devastating blow to us, especially with the new baby on the way (which I’m pleased to say my Dad knew about before he left us.)

Through my grieving process since then, my thoughts have naturally considered grief in general, and I have begun to recognise what an incredibly personal and individual experience it is for each of us. All grief is unique to each person and the person they have lost. 

There are frameworks available to help us navigate and understand grief. One such comes from the eminent psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross who described five stages to grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We may visit each of these stages at different times, in a different order, multiple times, or even skip some entirely. We may also have to contend with shock or trauma if the passing was sudden or unexpected, or feel a sense of relief if an illness was unbearable or longstanding. 

There is also research around what happens in our brain when we lose a loved one. The brain regions involved with prediction and attachment for example will naturally be affected as our new reality fails to match with our ‘predicted’ reality of seeing our loved one. It takes time for the new reality to become wired into the brain and in the meantime there is often confusion and deep, almost physical, pain. 

These insights can certainly help us understand what is happening and why during these difficult times. They can help us to appreciate that what we experience at a time of grief is natural and normal. However it is important to realise that there is no roadmap for this; that our own personal journey with grief will be different, not only to everyone else’s, but also to all our other experiences of grief in the past or future. And the reason each experience of grief is unique is because the person we lost, and out relationship with them, were also unique. 

Losing my dear Dad – my hero, my mentor, my friend – has been unequivocally difficult. And yet, I am not consumed with sadness, but rather with a profound sense of gratitude at having had this this wonderful soul in my life for all this time. I have no regrets – I saw him very often; talked, listened and laughed with him; told him I loved him all the time. I felt his love, support, affection and interest every day. 

It will always be ‘too soon’ to lose someone we love dearly, and I have certainly been back and forth through denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But an awareness of how fortunate I am to have shared the life of this amazing person has comforted me at the toughest moments of this journey. 

I will not offer any advice or platitudes to those of you going through grief. I only want to offer you love and my sincerest wish that you can find a path through that is the right one for you. 

I’ll leave you with these words from the incredible Kahlil Gibran:

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.    

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.    

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

From The Prophet (Knopf, 1923)