30 years on. Lessons I’ve learnt about grief.

I wanted to write something articulate and beautifully moving to mark the 30th anniversary of my dad’s death but, it just isn’t coming to me.

The verses are disjointed and fractured and just don’t fit properly together. They’re ok-some bits are really good (yes- that is the sound of me blowing my own trumpet!) but it’s not the way I imagined it would…a bit like life really.

The truth is you can’t always make something so sad sound romantic and poetic.

Sometimes things just are what they are and all you can do is survive and remake a different life from the wreckage of what was left behind.

I am 37 still mourn the life we could have had. I see Adam with our girls and my heart swells and breaks in equal measure. I want to have more of my own memories with my daddy, as a fsmily of 4. I want my children to have a grandpa and my mum to have a mate.

But- if we had that, maybe we wouldn’t have this- our super tight, absolutely unbreakable three muscateer mentality. And yet, knowing how amazingly fortunate I am doesn’t undo how cheated I feel. Such is life.

I love my life. I love the fact that I know absolutely unequivocally how loved I was and am by my family. I love my daughter’s and my husband and my friends and I share my opinions and emotions with anyone who shows a passing interest. That is who I am.

I am who I am because of the experiences I have had- we all are. I’m nothing special!

Was this the path I would have chosen- no way.

Do I wish my daddy was here? Daily.

Am I making the best life I can with the hand I was dealt? Damn right.

Our loss is no one else’s lesson.

There’s no way of forcing people to truly appreciate their lives and their loves through someone else’s unrelated experience;

It’s the grief equivalent of saying finish your dinner, other people are starving. It doesn’t work!

But…what if you could learn a weeny lesson…what if you could really truly imagine that today was your last day… would you walk a little slower, squeeze a little tighter, linger a little longer, laugh a little louder and love a little harder?

Course you would! I’d recommend it.

(PS- here is the verse…work in progress!)

30 years ago today,
My darling daddy passed away.
He went without fanfare or fuss,
And broke the hearts of all of us.

He left 2 girls without a dad.
And even now it makes me sad.
He left our mum without a mate
This was just our hand of fate.

I miss the things I never had.
I miss just being with my dad.
I missed him walk me down the aisle.
He missed cuddles with his new grandchild.

He missed growing old with my mum.
They thought the best was yet to come.
We miss him every single day.
We wish it hadn’t been this way.

I would have grown up anyway
But in a very different way.
And so it is and will always be.
The death of him is what makes me me.

With lots of love.

Muma. X

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