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Writer's pictureCathie Rooyen

The ache of grief

Sunday 26th March 2023


Sometimes I start this blog with having no idea which direction my words will take.  Tonight is one such time.


As life has ticked over today, for all of us reading this, there's a family whose life has taken a huge pause.  The space of grief is hovering over while the outpouring of love from extended family and friends comes in from around the globe. The business of arranging the formalities and recalling of the events give the conscious brain something to 'do'. The dark shadow of loss is not yet felt while the body vibrates with the shock of the death.


Grief affects everyone very differently and there's no indication of how that path will turn. It's also an emotion that can get rushed over in our modern western life. As a young girl I remember seeing people in mourning and they could be identified with their black clothing.  The respect that society gave them was important because grief can change behaviour radically. Unfortunately, I believe, grief gets rushed along too quickly now by society, in an effort to help the grieving 'be strong' at a time when it's vital to feel broken and as weak as necessary.


Sometimes it's a personal urgency to rush through this phase because it's so damn sore. I know this because I experienced it when my friend died. How could I feel this huge loss more than how I experienced my sister's death? My logic brain kicked in and I went numb. Numbness is useful at times but prolonged numbness can be damaging to the body. In an attempt to shut off my pain, I shut off all feelings and that's a slow death for someone whose main currency was feelings. 


But grief has a way of finding itself out of the body. Often in unlikely moments when a different kind of loss triggers the dark pain and suddenly the wail comes out. I remember being surprised by my own primal wailing when my dog died. A catalyst for an outpouring of pain that I didn't try to edit or stop. It was necessary and cathartic.


I'm aware how my neighbour's passing had allowed my grief to piggyback on my averted grief of my dad just more than a year ago. Somehow witnessing the children's pain shines internally on my own loss. Grief is messy, clumsy, untimely and excruciatingly sore. It's also something that we all end up experiencing unfortunately.


I read a moving tribute from a husband to a wife online yesterday and it made me think of my dad,  all those years ago when mum died. Except he couldn't bear being left behind without her. It's hard being left behind,  even though it is a privilege to live one more day.


I had the privilege of sharing a stunning sunset with my sister tonight and had another day on this blue planet.



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