I think as a young person who has lost their mum, I am quite tired of being scared of everything.
Your grief is seen and felt, even at the time of the Christmas spirit and when all is merry. You are seen. You are heard. Your loved one, nor you, is forgotten.
I’m running towards a finish line I simply can’t see, crowds and crowds of people clapping for their children, and I know my mum is still cheering for me.
We hope that you have enjoyed reading The Grief Reality in April. It is a joy to have somewhere to talk so openly about grief, mental health and general ramblings.
Writing on the blog is deeply personal. I imagine I sit you down, offer you tea, hold your hand and look you in the eyes. Whilst you may read this and throw it away, or never think of it again, I think of it every day. The power of you sitting with me, and giving me space to share my thoughts.
Hopefully dear reader, by the time that this post is up, my essay will have figured out how to write itself, references will be arranged alphabetically in a long list and it will submit itself.
Friends are like stars: you don’t always realise they are there, but they are always shining.
A thought provoking and beautiful piece from our friend from the Instagram family. Head over to Lynn’s Instagram page for beautiful art inspired by grief.
There is no consolation for missing someone who can’t come back, but there are things you can do to feel closer to your person, and I am thankful to be able to continue something that we both loved together.