Tag: grief
-
So far…Mom is doing okay.
Losing a parent has made me incredibly aware of holding tight to the parent I have left. My friend Megan – who also lost her Dad – said it’s actually a thing. Yep. It’s called “surviving parent guilt’. This explains a lot. This is probably why Mom gets away with getting SO MUCH MONEY from…
-
Tiny pink urn
Dad’s taught me so much of what I know; how to tie my laces, how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to be facetious and mostly get away with it, how to pull funny pranks on mates…and the important things; like how to be a good friend, how to really listen to someone,…
-
The after-effects of losing a parent.
How does death change your perspective? Death has irrevocably changed me and I will never be the same again. Having lost my Dad – my hero – has now meant my journey through life has a tear through it. I am now the before and after of myself. Before – when I had my Dad…
-
“I can take it”
I want to help whenever I see someone hurting. I can’t seem to help but want to go over to them, put an arm around them or automatically lift up the other end of whatever huge burden they’re pulling along behind them so that between us, the burden won’t be as heavy on that person.…
-
4 Policemen, 2 Ambulance officers, flashing lights…and a tearful husband.
I’m struggling, guys. I’m really struggling. I don’t feel anything apart from grief, loss, rage, confusion and a profound hurt that has sunk into the marrow of my bones and physically makes my body ache. Alun won’t believe me and if I talked to a friend about how I’m feeling, I’m so scared I’ll burden…
-
Father’s day
I miss my Dad every single day. Holidays like today – Father’s day – multiplies the grief tenfold. I’m hurting so much that my bones ache. Last year was my 1st Father’s day without Dad. I made myself go to his favourite pub in the city, ordered a glass of lemon, lime and bitters and…
-
Surviving parent guilt
Since my Dad died, I’ve come across new things. Like crippling grief. Grief that looks and feels like 80 feet waves pummelling me, tumbling me, confusing and frightening me. Grief like that. Grief that – like waves – doesn’t let you come up for air. It doesn’t stop for a second so you can’t stop.…