The Gift

I haven’t written for a while. There’s too much fizzing around in my head to know where to start. I want to write about the Horizon programme and arrogance and ignorance and grief and bereavement admin and family but it’s all jumbled up with everyday stress like work (mainly technology and bloody printers), family, Brexit, Japanese, photography, birds, and just generally feeling a bit out of sorts (I’ve got chilblains!)

The thing about this grief and mental health stuff is that it’s unpredictable. Although I’m fixed and my brain isn’t constantly replaying the images of my mum’s death it does seem to have learnt how to worry. I used to be the laid back one. The Long Suffering Husband used to do enough for both of us and I would say, “The worst that could happen is that an elephant could fall out of the sky but it’s unlikely.” Now that an elephant has fallen out of the sky and I caught it with my bare hands I strangely find myself considering all the other elephants that are up there. My car had a slow puncture and I was unable to deal with it for days because I had to process all the things I could do or had done wrong. I dropped my son back at university and spent a sleepless night considering the programme about drugs and students I’d listened to on Radio  4; replaying all the worst scenarios that could happen to him. Everything can seem fine and suddenly you can be cursing the printer for not working and find that tears are pricking at your eyes for no reason. It truly is the gift that keeps giving.

I think this is all normal. In our death and grief denying world, we like to think these things are sorted and packed away in a few days, never to bother us again but it just takes time and maybe things will not be the same. Maybe it’s an opportunity to change, grow and make decisions about the next phase of your life.