Reader, I married him...

More to the point, B married me, and for that I am so very thankful. He and I were, perhaps, an unlikely couple, not only because of our ages but because we were different in so many ways, but we had a good marriage, an imperfect but happy and enriching twenty-four years, till death did us part. Both of our lives were changed forever when we became friends, and then more than friends, and for that I shall be eternally thankful. Now I am endeavouring to live the rest of my life without him, and to live it to the full as he would want me to. I hope I can live up to that challenge.

Just as our marriage passed from that initial buzz to contented everyday life (and none the worse because of that – better even), my grief has passed from that initial state of desolation to a more familiar companion. In many ways it is, now, more 'everyday', except that that perhaps suggests that it is comfortable, whereas it can, and still does, put me through the wringer. That Jester, grief, remains part of my life. In many ways, it is like our love, it is just there, continuing with me as I move on. I pass through a range of emotions each day and I try to accept that this is to be expected, though I wish it wasn’t! One thing that is missing, though, is that sense of contentment and I can see why some say the second year is harder than the first. At the moment, I often seem to be ‘on-edge’. In some ways, my grief is easier to cope with but, strangely, it now feels more complex and less easy to express. It is no longer all-consuming as it was in the first year but it still touches most things in my life. A big difference is that external stressors now seem to have the ability to magnify the emotions caused by my grief. It is really hard to explain, but my grief now feels more shut-in and yet complicated by everything else that is going on around me, rather than just being an entity of its own. Perhaps, a better way of putting it is that issues going on in life now seem to exacerbate my grief, like a mirror reflecting my emotions back to me, just to remind me that I am still grieving. Things that I would have taken in my stride previously can, now, just feel overwhelming.

Saying all this, I feel that I have less to write about on my blog as it either feels too personal or too judgmental, and so it feels right that I stop writing The Grieving Jester. I don’t want to become (even more?!) repetitive. I will continue to write my journal, it just won’t be public.

There are, however, a few things I want to leave with you, and which may help others who find themselves in similar positions:

• When you lose a partner, grief touches every part of your life and you can’t avoid it.        Everything, but everything is different: shopping, cooking and eating; sleeping; lying in the bath; watching tv; housework; everyday journeys and holidays; visiting friends; going out for a meal, alone or with someone else; going to an exhibition; going for a walk; going to church. EVERYTHING is different, and not in a good way…
  
  
• Grief can have a profound physical effect, and I wasn’t expecting this. It often feels like fear - it can make your heart pound, cause palpitations, and make you jittery and anxious. It can affect your sleep patterns and your appetite; it can cause physical discomfort; it can make you nauseous, etc., etc. This is normal, but see your doctor if you are worried, it’s always good to double-check.
  
  
• Grief can feel as though your future has been wrenched away from you and that everything is empty and black. B was older than me, so I didn’t expect to spend my old age with him but, nevertheless, after he died, at least initially, there was no tomorrow, no next week, no next month, no next year. My life felt like it had been ripped apart. Hang on in there, and call someone when it’s really unbearable (though I know this is much easier said than done). It does eventually get easier.
  
  
• Grief is tough (what an understatement)! It is alright not to be alright. It’s alright to be vulnerable. Be honest and tell people how you are feeling – it’s not easy (and I found it gets much harder after the first year), but others should know that your grief is worse than hard, even if it is weeks, months, or years on. But, it’s also alright to choose who you share with – not everyone is supportive (even if they mean to be). Don’t shut your grief away – it will come back to bite you.
  
  
• Sometimes a whole day is too much to cope with – concentrating on the next few minutes is enough.
  
  
• Try to avoid rumination and regrets – it is very, very hard to do, but they are not helpful. Remember, you were as you were. No relationship is perfect!
  
  
• Don’t compare your grief with that of others – grief is unique and we all handle it differently.
  
  
• Find a way to process your feelings and thoughts.  Surprisingly, writing really helped me. I, also, soon learnt which friends I could talk with openly – they are like jewels sparkling in the dark, grab them! Find the outlet that is right for you, whatever it is.
  
  
• If you are a ‘cry-er’, like me, buy lots of tissues and have a box in every room - carry them with you at all times!
  
  
• Grief is lonely. Ask your friends to call or visit you. I didn’t have the emotional energy to ring people, and the lower I felt the harder it was (still is). Make use of your friends, and be patient. I found that different friends materialise at different times, and are supportive in different ways. And, as hard as it is, you sometimes have to make the first contact.
  
  
• It’s okay to say ‘no’ (I have to remind myself of this, frequently) – most people won’t understand what you are going through.
  
  
• Expect to be ambushed - a random thought, a memory, or something you see or hear can suddenly remind you of your loved one and hit you full force. Being in places you went together can be difficult, but so can going somewhere new (s/he should be here!).
  
  
• Things that used to be straight forward can become extremely difficult and stressful when grieving - don’t make any big decisions or plan big works. (I don’t regret getting my building works done, but my grief made it so much more stressful than I had anticipated. And I still get stressed by things that I wouldn’t even have thought about previously.)
  
  
• Although it sometimes feels like it, you won’t forget your loved one - I was extremely anxious that I would forget B. This hasn’t happened and now, sometimes, he just pops into my mind’s eye unbidden, which is a joy.
  
  
• If possible, find others who ‘get-it’, who understand what it feels like at 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, eighteen months, and forward, when others seem to have forgotten, or ignore, the fact that you are still grieving.
  
  
• There is no time-line to grief. It takes as long as it takes, so ignore those that think you should be over it by now. It is, however, possible to get stuck in grief, which isn’t healthy, so see your GP if it isn’t getting easier, particularly after a year.
  
  
• Models of grief don’t work for everyone. Kubler-Ross’ ‘Five Stages of Grief’, which everyone quotes, did not fit my experience at all, whereas Parkes and Bowlby’s ‘Four Phases of Grief’ (shock and numbness, yearning and searching, disorganisation and despair, and reorganisation and recovery) felt much more applicable. Other ones that I found helpful were Stroebe and Schut’s ‘Dual Process Model’ and Tonkin’s ‘Growing around Grief’. Use whatever works for you, or ignore them all. There are no rights or wrongs.

And, if you are supporting someone in their grief:

• Just be there! It gets worse before it gets better. There is a tendency for support to drop-off after the funeral, and especially so after 2 or 3 months. They will need you more than ever then. Stick with them, grief changes but it doesn’t just suddenly go away! I am so grateful to those friends that still acknowledge my grief. 
  
  
• Don’t try and make things better – nothing will make it better! Be with them in their pain. Listen to their story and acknowledge their feelings. Mention their loved one by name and talk about them – it doesn’t make things worse; it helps! Listen, and let them talk about their grief. 
  
  
• Don’t say “call me if you need anything” – the grieving person doesn’t know what they need, and even if they do it’s really hard to ask! Make specific offers: ‘Can I cook you a meal / mow the lawn / help with probate, etc.?’; or, ‘Would you like to come for a meal / stay / go out to (wherever) with me; etc, etc?’ Equally, don’t say you will do something if you are unable to do it.
  
  
• Avoid platitudes and clichés, and definitely don’t say things like: ‘S/he’s in a better place now’ or ‘S/he would want you to be happy’ – that may very be true, but it doesn’t help! Don’t start any sentence with, ‘At least… (s/he didn’t suffer / you’re young enough to start again / s/he had a good life, etc). Be sensitive. At the beginning, if anyone had asked me how I was, I would have shouted at them ‘How do you f*cking think I am, my husband has died!’, but I could cope with ‘how’s today?’. Definitely, don’t ask them: ‘Are you over it yet?’, ‘When are you going to start dating again?’ (!!). 
  
  
• Be aware that, for some people, seemingly very little, everyday things take on a completely different significance e.g. the chair s/he last sat in, the mug s/he last used, the pillow s/he last slept on, his or her slippers, places visited, etc. – try not to make assumptions and always check things out.
  
  

Resources that I found to be helpful:

Books

•         ‘It’s OK that you’re not OK’ by Megan Divine
•         ‘Beyond Goodbye’ by Zoe Clark-Coates
•        ‘Shattered by Grief. Picking up the Pieces to become Whole Again’ by Claudia Coenen
•         ‘The Madness of Grief’ by Richard Coles
•        ‘Mindfulness, 25 ways to live in the moment through art’ by Christophe Andre (this is a beautiful book)

Social Media

·         https://whatsyourgrief.com/  - I wish I had found this site a lot earlier!

·         https://grief-channel.com/

·         https://untanglegrief.com/

·         The app ‘Grief Works – Self Love & Care’ by Julia Samuel

So, writing this blog has certainly helped me to process my grief and if I have helped just one other person that is enough.Death and dying was my field of work for more than twenty years, and I see how society ignores death and hides it away, despite the fact that it is the one thing we all have in common. Part of my motivation for writing ‘The Grieving Jester’ was to be intentional about my grief and to not to hide it away, to let others see how difficult it is (hopefully, without being too sorry for myself). That is why I also try (often not succeeding) to be open about how my grief makes me feel. Perhaps, people feel uncomfortable, or embarrassed, or bored with me by now, but for that I make no apology. We need to talk about death and dying, and grief, and to be able to deal with them in a healthy way rather than hiding them away.  

“Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope.”        (Elizabeth Gilbert)

I continue on my journey of grief, but I also intend to live... So, thank you so much for being my companions on the way and making my relationship with The Jester that little bit easier. You will never quite know just how much your positive comments and reactions have helped to support me through these difficult times. And if you happen to bump into me, I’ll still appreciate you asking how I am. My grief is different now, but I clearly have a way to go…

“It seems to me, that if we love, we grieve. That’s the deal. That’s the pact. Grief and love are forever intertwined. Grief is the terrible reminder of the depths of our love and, like love, grief is non-negotiable. There is a vastness to grief that overwhelms our miniscule selves. We are tiny, trembling clusters of atoms subsumed within grief’s awesome presence.”  (Nick Cave)