I am new to grief, my mom passed away not quite 2 months ago. I try and work through it by moving my body. I’m a runner....what I’ve noticed lately is that after every run I cry, I run, I cry. I’m so taken back by this. I feel as though I am doing the best I can, I talk about my pain, I see a psychologist, I do distract by shopping but the run/cry combo always catches me off guard. Maybe it’s guilt because she can’t run or walk this trail with me anymore. I don’t know! I wanted to share in case this is the same for others.
Grief, for me, is one of the few emotions that are entirely about self. It’s the expression of the agony of being born with one solitary reference frame. Mine. It expresses and touches that hollow core, that once felt, follows throughout life. I feel connected and then some event initiates loss, often the loss reminds me that I, in reality, can never be over there with you or any other sentient being. I find myself in a solitary container again. Grief and suffering are human challenges that may be constant, but the ability to feel those things are also the reason to embrace the joys. Life is bittersweet in turn.
Why would you want to be on our blog? We hope that this would be a place for you to share your feelings and be met with love by our wonderful community.
The Grief Café is not just about sad things. It is a place to feel heard, a place to feel accepted. The truth of the matter is: everyone that has been through something similar to us, and we have been brought together by this mutual understanding. The Grief Café is not a support group, it is simply a place to have a conversation about grief. Our aim is simply to normalise this conversation that everyone should be having.
I wonder if I'll ever come to terms with the fact that you aren't here anymore. Will I ever be comfortable when September comes around and brings another year without you to a close? Is it weird that I consider September the start of the new year? Today is your 56th birthday and tomorrow marks … Continue reading It’s Been a Year
One of my favourite memories of Mum, is when she would come back from a food shop, or a bakery with a brown paper bag, and a big smile. Even if we had argued, she would still bring me some sort of baked good. Chocolate eclairs, cinnamon buns, sausage rolls. My favourite was a Belgian … Continue reading Belgian Bun
The very first photo is my lovely mum in a blue ballgown, taken on the 14th of September, 2013. I would have been 13. The royal blue of Mum's dress brightens and flaunts her clear blue eyes. A faint, hesitant smile has only aged 7 years with fondness and love. Her hair is short, and slightly messy. I love it, but I can imagine mum brushing her fingers through it only moments beforehand.
The first sip of coffee holds within it a sense of expectation. It is tired, bleary eyed and grumpy, yet still expectant of the day ahead.
Hi lovely followers, Gary has written another post that confronts feelings of guilt and happiness while grieving, and we are very proud to share it with you today! Make sure you check out his blog at bereavedsingledad.blog, it is truly inspiring.
One of our most inspiring bloggers, @bereavedsingledad , has agreed to write a guest post for us about the loss of his father when he was younger. It is a lovely post, and we are very grateful that Gary was able to write for us. Here is the link to his blog, so you can give him a read; grab a cup of tea, because you'll be reading for a while! As soon as you start, you won't want to stop.