You may have noticed a large void in the shape of missing posts throughout August AND now part of September. So why the long wait? Is this to be the normal schedule now?! Well…maybe but I certainly hope not.

I’ve truly missed this. Writing and creating this blog is something I’m genuinely proud of (no matter how humble the fruits have been so far). But the truth is that I’ve just been too content — HOW UNBEARABLE OF ME!! So there’s the headline — Hold onto the hope of happiness —  Nothing stays the same forever, no matter how bad things get. I believe that when happiness comes your way you should grab it with both hands and try not to let it go.

Writing The Good Grief Blog is, in part, a product of some wallowing. When I have been stuck in rough patches, writing notes for posts has been a wonderful kind of therapy. For now though, life is offering me a large platter of things to be grateful for and I’m thoroughly digging in. This means I’m not really in the right frame of mind to put these notes together. Anyone in need of this project; it’s resources and my very limited experience, deserves more than a quick half an hour of typing to make up the numbers. I’m aware that moments of vulnerability are only ever around the corner. Imminent changes in my life are sure to evoke new thoughts to reflect upon.

This period has proved to me that through grief normality can be recovered. Moreover it reminds me of how we may learn to talk more openly. It is really all about timing. I remember “saving up” conversations that I wanted to have with friends, sometimes just for 24 hours, to avoid rehashing the same problems several times over.There are very few times you can repeat the nub of the problem: “I’m irretrievably sad” before the person that’s gracious enough to hold you whilst you convulse runs out of things to say. That definitely doesn’t mean that you should pass up the opportunity to drench their nicely ironed apparel with your salty tears — spread the misery. In fact, It’s imperative you do. However, I found saving some thoughts for later, when I could better put into words how I was feeling, gave me much better closure on some topics and made my friends feel somewhat more useful.

We cannot always choose a convenient time to share our  struggles. I was offered bereavement counselling by the hospice that took care of my dad in his final days. As I needed this support so soon after my dad’s passing to prepare me for sitting my finals, I did not have the full glory of hindsight to cover everything. I feel that I would very much benefit from more counselling in the near future  to reflect more completely.

Talking to you, my family and my friends has without doubt accelerated me past the very raw stage. I now feel it’s time to celebrate the positive parts of my life with the people that make them so. I no longer feel regulary talking about the past is productive. At this point, I feel everyone in my life knows where I’m at with the most recent loss of my dad and I’m more than happy to talk openly with them. A counsellor is trained to help you develop your thoughts as they come to you and I feel when I have enough saved up, both financially and in terms of material to talk about, I’ll take the opportunity to uphold the happiness I’ve been blessed with.

I guess the issue of inconvenient timings may begin to explain why grief is still kept behind locked doors, though I’d urge you all to be more open about your experiences. It can feel a bit pathetic to cry into a cup of tea, lamenting over  the loss of your favourite goldfish but the feelings we have for anything/anyone who gave us love are far from “pathetic”.

So there we go, a very short and thoroughly unsatisfying TGGB fix. By their nature, grief, sadness and vulnerability cannot be plopped onto a calendar. As soon as I can organically share I will, but I clearly cannot promise a constant schedule.

If you would like to see more from this project please do get involved and write. I am only too aware that my experience cannot offer everything to everyone. Take your time with memories — they are precious and they are yours before anyone else’s. Only give up what you feel ready to, because taking those first steps into the irrationally “taboo” can be rather scary. You are completely at the mercy of this audience, but I have been showered with love and respect since beginning this project; a gift that I am so humbly grateful for.

Prudence x