grief and loss

As I walked into the screening room with a bunch of seasoned reviewers and critics, to watch Manchester by the Sea - I have
Well you never know what support, or lack of support, will be offered to you. You have no idea whether those around you will say helpful things or hurtful things, so as you are walking on this uncharted and terrifying path you are constantly waiting for a bomb to be detonated.
So those are my reasons. That is why I didn't tell anyone we had lost our first baby for quite some time, in fact it wasn't until we lost our third baby that we became much more open about our journey to have children.
Grief changes you. You can let it consume you or you can let it awash your world with positives. What do you choose? To remain
Deep divisions have cracked open this country, deeper than many understood before. They know it at last. While one side celebrates, and everyone in the middle watches on uncertainly, the liberal heartlands grief for what could have been and what now is. Four years seems a lifetime away.
I never thought I would lose my dad at a young age, let alone to suicide. To anyone reading this who may be going through the same grief, you're not alone. Don't let anyone tell you that grief has a time frame... it absolutely does not. Take all the time you need. It's ok to be selfish.
I think any parents with a very sick child on an oncology ward would agree that their mothers have been rocks in terms of practical support. I can only imagine what it must have felt for my mum to have been told the devastating news about Skye's cancer.
Sometimes the magnitude of everything you want to do in your lifetime is so overwhelming that you don't do any of them at all. Read all of Game of Thrones, re-visit chess, triathlon training - the list trundles on and on.
Talking about death is never an easy thing to do. It's certainly not something you save for the dinner party conversation; unless you want to clear the table of guests before the cheese and biscuits have arrived. Death and grieving are often hidden, private subjects; saved only for those who've been there, or your CRUSE counsellor.
Thirteen years ago today my mum died. It all feels like a lifetime ago, and actually I can't really remember what life looked and felt like with her in it. I wish I had been given the chance to get to know her, to appreciate her and, of course, I would do anything to thank her for all the things I can now see she did for me and my sister, and all the little ways in which she showed us that she loved us.