Reflecting on my grief journey 4 years on

Remembering my wonderful Dad

This post is something that I’ve gone back and for with on whether to share or not, is it too personal, is it too depressing, is it something that people will want to read when I’m supposed talking about motherhood.

But, it’s a huge part of my story, my life and has shaped where I am now, so I’ve decided to share it, even though it feels vulnerable. I hope that sharing my story will help someone who is going through something similar.

Remembering my wonderful Dad

So, this time of year is always tricky for me because on 8th October, it’ll be 4 years since my Dad passed away. He was just 65 and it was unexpected. In fact, he was due to have an operation to make him better the day that he passed away.

Hugging my Dad after his lovely speech at my wedding in 2013

I’ve noticed that even if I’m not thinking about this date specifically, my body knows it’s coming up. Subconsciously it’s always there in the background, that knowing that he is not here anymore. It’s like this deep ache that is ever-present.

Memories of him popping into my head. Remembering how often he used to tell me he was proud of me. Missing his cheeky laugh and shockingly bad Dad jokes. Missing being able to ring him up to talk to him. At any kind of family event or celebration, it being tinged with sadness, because Dad would have loved it all.

“Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in the hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”

Jamie Anderson

So, my emotions are all over the place at the moment.

I was reflecting back on the things that helped me cope with my grief, specifically in the first 6-12 months after Dad passed away. I wanted to share these, in the hope that it might help someone else who is grieving too.

1. Podcasts about grief

The Grief Gang Podcast - I stumbled across this podcast when it was relatively new back in 2019 and it is hosted by Amber who lost her mum when she was 19. I find Amber so inspiring because normalises talking about grief and she’s gone from strength to strength now. I remember listening to a podcast episode on Father’s Day, where she had asked her followers to send in their memories of their Dads and what they missed about them and she shared them all in this episode. I listened to this episode on my first Father’s Day without my Dad and I cried listening to all the memories that people shared. It was sad and comforting all at the same time.

Griefcast by Cariad Lloyd - An award-winning podcast hosted by Cariad Lloyd who lost her Dad when she was a teenager. I remember listening to the episodes specifically about the guests who’d lost their Dad and their words just felt so soothing. Listening to people who went through such a similar thing to me really helped me understand my grief better, they could describe it better than I could. It was that feeling of, yes, that’s it, that’s exactly how I feel. And I guess as well when they described their relationship with their Dad, and what kind of person he was, I could relate to that too.

2. Books and poetry

I remember in the first few days after Dad passed away, I wanted to read something that would help me make sense of how I was feeling. I’d say for the first 3 months, the shock of what had happened was so surreal, I felt like I was living in an alternate universe. Feeling like I was in a constant haze, it felt like I was looking down on myself carrying out my everyday life. But my head was somewhere else.

This is the book that really helped me - It’s OK that you are not OK by Megan Devine. I’d highly recommend it - one of the things I remember from it is about society’s responses to grief. We try to make the person feel better by with platitudes when they talk about their loss, but actually the best thing you can do for someone who is grieving is to agree that it’s a shit situation, because it is. Not to downplay it, minimise it or gloss over it, to sit with it. To sit in the darkness with them. To ask them about the person that passed away. To just listen.

Poems

I read this poem by Helen Lowrie Marshall at my Dad’s funeral because I could imagine him saying these words. It’s sad, kind and beautiful all at once:

AfterGlow

I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.

I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.

I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways,

Of happy times and laughing times

and bright and sunny days.

I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun;

Of happy memories that I leave when life is done.

I also bought this short book called ‘Messages - A Companion in Grief Through Poetry and Verse by Caroline L Wilkes which I read time and time again. I haven’t read it for ages so just looking through it just now was strange as I remember how soothing and deeply I felt the words.

Two of my favourites poems in this book are:

These two lines just get me every time:

‘Forever you’ll find my smile in the sun’

‘I’m laughing and loving and drying your tears’

3. Being a mum

My kids were 5 and 2 when my Dad passed away in 2019. Sadly, he never got to meet my youngest as he was born in 2022. We gave him my Dad’s name as his middle name, so that feels like he has a part of my Dad with him always. My middle son always says ‘Mummy, it’s such a shame that Jake never got to meet Grandad isn’t it’ - breaks my heart because it’s true.

At the time, I had to tell the kids immediately what had happened to Dad, because they were with us when we got the news. So, having to talk about Grandad being up in heaven became our reality quickly. It was really hard because I hadn’t even processed the news myself before having to explain it to the kids, but when I look back I’m glad in a way.

Having the kids there meant I had to get up and get on with everyday life, despite my grief. The way they would talk about Dad and ask me questions made us honour his memory in a way that was led by them too. Robins, rainbows and feathers are our signs from Grandad. We talk about him everyday and I see a lot of my Dad’s personality in my middle son - mainly the cheekiness and non stop talking!

We actually saw two rainbows on the way to school this morning and I said, ‘there’s Grandad telling us to have a good day today’ and my middle son started talking about how easy it was for Grandad to make a rainbow in heaven ‘because he literally just needs to paint on the clouds’. That got me.

And the kids provided light relief in the dark times too. Our first Christmas without him, just 2 months after he passed away, I’ve got a video of the kids singing ‘ We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ in their Christmas pyjamas next to the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve and just seeing their excitement helped our grief.

4. Bereavement leave and bereavement counselling

At the time I was working part-time in a University, and I ended up having 10 weeks off for bereavement leave. I had a history of anxiety and I knew that if I didn’t take time off to honour my grief then I’d probably end up having a breakdown of sorts.

So, in the days that the kids were in nursery and I was on bereavement leave, I made sure to really sit with my grief. To grieve. Listened to songs. Looked at photos. Watched my wedding video with my Dad walking me down the aisle and doing his speech. Journalled. Wrote letters to my Dad telling him how I felt. Let myself cry and cry. When I look back now, I’m so glad that I did this and I think it helped me process my grief in a different way to had I not taken that time. I know not everyone has the luxury of taking this amount of time off, but even just having some dedicated time to grieve is so important. Let yourself feel it. It’s heartbreaking and painful but cathartic too.

About 6 months after Dad passed away I had bereavement counselling from Cruse - who are an incredible charity for the bereaved. In a weird coincidence, my counsellor was called Carrie, which was my Grannie’s name and is my daughter’s middle name. It felt like that was a sign from my Grannie, even though she passed away when I was 9.

Counselling meant I had the chance to talk through all aspects of my grief to someone who could help me make sense of my experiences. It also allowed me to talk about my Dad, who he was, my memories of him and my relationship with him, which was complex.

One of the hardest things through my grief journey has been supporting my mum through her grief too - so then by default my grief becomes secondary. Comforting her, but then going through this intense grief myself, well it was just too much. So the counselling was unbelievably helpful in navigating all of that.

4 years on

It still feels like Dad has gone somewhere and will be back. I don’t think our brains let us process the enormity of what it’s like to lose someone that close to us, or at least our brain only lets us process the bits that we can handle at once.

And something I realised very early on in my grief journey was that the words don’t exist in our language to describe your grief or how you feel about the person you’ve lost.

I just miss him so much and wish he was here. It doesn’t convey the depth of that feeling but it’s the only thing I can say.

My heart goes out to you if you’ve experienced a huge loss too. Be gentle with yourself and take the time and space you need to honour your grief.

Thank you so much for reading. This post has turned out to be really cathartic to write, so I’m glad I shared my words even though it feels hard.