Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Another story

One of my close friends recently lost his father. I sent him a short message which I wish I had received when I heard about Dylan's death. What helped most was that people said they were thinking about me, even if they had nothing else to say and felt helpless. I felt helpless too. But at least I didn't feel alone. Here is what I sent:
You're in my thoughts and if you ever want to talk about it, now or in the future, you know where I am. Send my love and thoughts on to the rest of your family. It'll take time, and things will get worse before they get better, but they will get better. Until then you know what to do- give yourself time, give yourself space, talk it over with people, and one day you won't need to talk about it anymore.
For me, the part that was at the same time the most reassuring and the most terrifying was that I knew what to do, keep talking. Knowing that eventually it would change, but at the same time feeling that it would never get better, and knowing that things would never ever be the same as they were was what kept me awake at night. It still does sometimes.

I still take time to be alone and appreciate the solitude.
One day I woke up and it was suddenly easy to be optimistic again. I wasn't happy, it still hurt to get through the day, but at least I had hope again. Every day since then has been better. From time to time I still think about Dylan and the loss (today is one of those days) but they're getting rarer.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Music to grieve to

I've listened to a lot of music in the grieving process, and Kathleen Ferrier has been by far the most moving. It's warm, comforting, heart breaking and most of all it's dignified. All grief should be this beautiful. It may be painful, but with Kathleen it feels like it has purpose.

I think it helps that my mum used to listen to this when I was young (she probably still listens to it0 so it gives me a connection not only to my childhood and Dylan, but also to my mum.