A grief essential

When my mom died, I needed two things. (Aside from magically having a mom back, of course…)

The first was a spot where I could retreat to, unseen, and let all the grief and despair and sadness hang out… somewhere I didn’t have to put on a happy face, where my kids knew they couldn’t interrupt me, where I could just be… in all my sadness. A grief essential. A wonderfully comfortable chair tucked away in what we call my secret garden. Nobody else comes here and it is glorious: green and sweet-smelling, constantly shady and surrounded by leaves.

The second thing I needed was a way to socialize that didn’t feel unbearable (because most socializing did). What saved me, as I wrote about in The Grief Handbook, was stealing succulents (mostly with permission 😉).

Almost all the places we went to had succulents of some flavour (thanks Cape Town!) and I would break off a tiny bit to bring home and plant in my secret garden. It was an act of hope when life felt hopeless.

Now, as you can see from the second pic, my garden is flourishing. Abundant! Home to a squirrel and a little striped mouse and so many birds. A shady green enclave grown from love, and grief…

But it only just occurred to me this long weekend that my refuge chair might need some plants, too. It’s been almost 4 years since my mom died (4 years!) and I had never thought to plant plants around my chair, or decorate it with the giant wooden heart my brother gave me. Until now…

There’s a deeper meaning here, hey? About making peace and acceptance, and learning to live with our losses and maybe, even, make them beautiful in some way.

I know that grief in its early days can feel like a tunnel with no end. But I can assure you the light does, eventually, stream in… And it is beautiful. Sending you love on the journey, if you need it ❤️

#grief #griefjourney #griefsupport #griefsucks #griefhandbook