Is it to hug you when you cry? To bring your person up in conversation? Or is it someone bringing you food or practically offering help to you that helps you?
Usually grief is a concept pushed to the edges of Christmas along with dried out Christmas tree needles and discarded wrapping paper. I had heard of A Boy Named Christmas through flashes on screens in adverts. I thought “boy and mouse; what could go wrong?” Immediately, my heart sank as I discovered the children had lost their mother.
Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don’t want to scratch.
When I wake up, my heart doesn’t split into a thousand pieces. My head doesn’t pound with questions asking me why us, or how are we here. When I reach for a mug for my coffee, my hands don’t shake when I see Mum’s mug.
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After all, I was widowed now! Wasn’t I supposed to be sad all the time?
We cannot express enough that our blog means the world to us. When we started this page, we just needed an outlet to express our pain and loss. Two years on, we have 4,000 followers across all platforms, and we are completely blown over by it. We cannot thank you enough for all your support.
Death of a loved one is hard. Grief and mourning suck but both are necessary to heal. I say ‘heal’ only as a descriptor because healing is…… Read more “As Told By Lisa”