blog eight: a brief look into the journey of grief & love

Grief, I believe, is one of those words that truly struggles to describe the whole of its existence & all the experiences that it is meant to encapsulate.

When we think of Grief, we think of loss. We think of the pain that losing someone or something we loved caused us. We think of the many stages that we go through, because of this loss.

Yet, there aren’t quite enough words to describe these feelings or these stages. The many feelings that play a role in our grieving, our mourning, our confrontation with loss, & its aches, that all lead back to how much we loved, or even how much we didn’t allow ourselves too. It is a journey of realising what we had & what we lost, & of being faced with the harshest of truths. It is a journey that not many talk about, because of the incomprehensible experiences of it all.

But it is a journey I wish to talk about today.

In this blog post, I will be exploring Grief - how it impacts us, as well as how it encourages us to love (if we are open to it). I also want to explore the role that grief plays in our life, in so many more ways than we expect it too. I want to talk about the scars, the aches, the confusion, & the people we become because of it all. So for todays exploration of Grief, I feel it is important to share some of my own experiences.

Let us begin with a poem that I wrote years ago, when it seemed that grief was entirely unfathomable…

*Trigger Warning: Grief, depression, suicidal thoughts & feelings, loss of loved one, etc.*

[missing words when i am missing you - unpublished work]

i fear that my words

aren’t enough

to describe the hurt,

the ache that engulfs,

the agony that consumes

when all i am

is missing you

I grew up in a family where separation was evident. My mum & dad divorced when I was very young, but luckily they had a healthy relationship that allowed them to communicate & co-parent quite effectively. My sister & I stayed with my Dad every second week or weekend, except when he was away working. He worked for the army, & this meant, he was often training or working overseas, often deployed for months at a time. This in itself was painful. He was my best friend, & my safe place, knowing he was so far away, where weeks & months went by with little communication was anxiety-inducing. Moreover, it was confusing when my mum was dating & seeing new people, & now suddenly I had a step-dad & two more baby sisters. However, the love in my heart grew for them, & subsequently the love in my heart grew in fear, for missing my dad. It was strange to feel like my whole world was changing so drastically, all while he was away & unable to be with me.

As if my whole world was going on without him, & I had no power to do anything about it. When I was 10, this fear had come true, more than I ever thought was possible.

He was killed in Afghanistan on the 20th of August 2010, by an unidentified IED.

The day that we found out was the 21st of August, the day of my little twins sisters birthday. When they turned two, it began quickly with a celebration for them, & just as quickly it became the turning point in which my whole world would have to go on without my dad. I was forced to acknowledge, what felt like the cruellest joke being played on me by the universe.

That my dad was just gone. No last goodbye, no last hug, no last email, no last I love you. He was suddenly just wiped from my reality. As if it were so easy, & simple, for him to no longer exist.

The denial was strong. How could he be gone? He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t let himself get hurt. He was strong & brave, & the toughest of them all. He’s my dad, he’s meant to protect me & keep me safe. How could he just not be here? Are you kidding me? This has to be a joke. I could call him, or I could text him, & one day I would hear from him, as if it was all some big mistake. Because how could this be real? But then the new owner of that phone number replied & apologised for my loss. My dad wasn’t going to respond.

That’s when the anger was consuming. I hated the world. I hated the army. I hated my dad for leaving. I hated that he could let himself die. I hated that he left me to take care of my family. I hated that my mum couldn’t be the mum we needed or deserved. I hated that I had to step up, & pretend I was okay so that no one would feel bad for me. I hated myself most of all, because I hated everything that I was feeling. I hated my dreams, my feelings, & my thoughts. I was stuck in a world, where he wasn’t there anymore. It was unfair & it was cruel. I didn’t understand why I had to lose him, & why I had to watch my sister go through it all. I hated that there was nothing anyone could do to make me feel better. I hated that no one could understand. I hated that no one really tried help. I hated that I had to be strong, because that’s what they all called me, & now that’s all i’ve ever known.

The bargaining helped me to escape from my reality. It had me waking from dreams where he had come back to life, or had me believing that maybe he was injured, lost & waiting to be found. Maybe if I put all my energy into keeping my family happy, he would be proud. Maybe if I shoved my feelings deep down, & focused on keeping the peace, things would be better. Maybe if I took care of everyone but myself, & pretended that I was okay, I would be okay. Maybe if i refused to cry, there would be nothing to cry about. Maybe if I did a good enough job at being strong, understanding, selfless, & took responsibility for my mums pain & mistreatment toward us, as well as protected & took care of my family, maybe the universe would reward me, maybe my Dad would come back after all. Maybe it was still just one big joke, all these years later. I would do anything for him to be alive again. I would’ve swapped places, so that my family would feel less broken. I would’ve given up everything just for him to come home, because he didn’t deserve to go, & he would make everything better.

The depression was years of numbness. Riddled with waves of confusion, of crying myself to sleep, of being woken by my tears, of feeling abandoned & unloved, of loneliness that never left, became buried & yet tainted my perspective of love. It was a depression that was well hidden, functional even. I did it all, I took care of my family, whilst feeling the ache & agony of my existence. I didn’t want to be alive. Everything I was, everything I was doing was for my sisters, my family, & to make my dad proud. There was no other point of my being except to please, keep the peace, & distract them & myself from all this suffering.

The acceptance, was the most painful of them all. Facing the truth & accepting my reality. Realising that no amount of wishing, praying, begging for him to come home, could change the fact that he was gone. To accept that he was never going to come home & save me from all this pain. I would never hear his voice, see his smile, make silly jokes with him, hear him say I love you, or feel his hug again. All I could do was love him, & remember his love. All I could do was be grateful that this love existed, & still does. Because how lucky was I to have had him at all. How lucky was I to have loved so deeply, & still do.

This was some of my journey through grief & its stages. Yet there was so much in-between. Even still with all of these words, it isn’t enough to capture grief.

Yet, through all this pain & suffering, from grieving my dad, myself & my childhood, it has taught me so much about who I am & how I love.

It has helped me realise, how my journey through grief, has always been about my journey toward a greater, & unconditional love - of self, of loss, of my dad, & of my life & my many experiences.

I am not writing this today, to tell you that Grief is more than just pain & loss. I am writing this today to give you the courage to love deeply & fully even through loss.

They say that time heals all wounds, & in many cases it can. But its not time that is the healer, time is just a factor, a tool to give yourself the space to feel & experience whatever it that you need too.

You have all the time in the world to accept all that you have lost, & yet only if you give yourself the time to do so. Only if you can be kind enough to yourself, to be loving & soft with your pain & suffering. To know that your grief is valid, & that it is safe to be felt & expressed.

& when you are ready, it is safe for your grief to evolve. Not to detach & to let go of pain, but to accept just how strongly you have loved & love all that you lost.

To grieve is not to be weak or vulnerable because of your feelings. To grieve is to have courage & to honour just how deeply you feel.

To grieve is to honour the depth & the beauty of your love, through loss.

Because in many cases, we do not realise the depth of our love, or how lucky we are, until we are faced to live without it. The thing about love, is that it never disappears - it expands, it evolves & it always exists. Despite all the pain, the suffering, the missing & wishing that my Dad was still here, I will forever be grateful for this love that it has shown me.

Because, grief has uncovered within me, unconditional love.

[a poem excerpt - my unpublished work]

& then i fell apart,

because in all of my grief,

i finally found so much

pure & unconditional love

I send you love on your journey through grief, for whatever it looks like through you & for you.

With Love, Bella.