We Are All Buffers

Years ago, in the 1990’s, whilst working at one of the children’s hospices, I had an experience which had a profound impact on me.

An experience that stroked my heart with it’s wisdom whilst simultaneously undressing me and laying me bare to the immense grief of a mum, dad and sister who had just had their lives implode following the death of their son and brother.

I was visiting a family whose adolescent son had recently died at home after a long illness. This young man had been visiting the hospice for respite for a few years and I, and other members of the team had built a lovely relationship with him.

On this visit to the family home, just 2 days after his death, the family shared with me, in detail, the final hours and minutes of their sons life.

It was not easy listening for someone in their 20’s.

But it was, for me, one of the most important and profound lessons in presence and listening.

Even to this day I remember where in their living room I was sat, who was present and where they were sat, how I was sat, who spoke and who sat silent.

I didn’t ask them for such a deep share. I didn’t probe.

I just showed up.

And provided the space and right conditions for them to feel safe and held.

I was the buffer. The cushion for alleviating some of the shock and a space where their intense grief, pain and suffering, their new reality, could meet the world outside of that.

I listened.

We held hands.

We hugged.

They needed to say it out loud, for their sons final moments to be acknowledged in this way.

And they needed me to hear their grief. Their pain.

Just one of the valuable lessons I took from this was that we are all buffers. Whether we are aware of it in the moment or not.

Where our grief (and everyone is grieving in some way), trauma and suffering meets the world.

Where someone’s pain and sadness meets your smile, your compassion, your kindness.

Photo by Sindre Fs on Pexels.com

We are all buffers.

Nancy đź’š xx

National Bereaved Parents Day

Today is National Bereaved Parents Day.

No one wants to be in this club.
It is a grief that not one of us who hasn’t experienced it can ever imagine.

Whether your child died in the womb, as an infant, teen, adolescent or adult the grief is immeasurable.

Neugeboren said – “A child that loses a parent is an orphan. But there’s no word for a parent that loses a child. That’s how awful the loss is.”

If you are a bereaved parent it’s ok to talk to and about your child. It can help you continue to feel connected to them.
If you wish celebrate, pay homage to or attend to yourself kindly when significant dates come round (birthday, diagnosis day, date of death, funeral day). Mark these significant days in a way that supports and feels right to you.
Including them in future events too honours their memory and can be a powerful way to bring them closer when the passing of time makes them feel so far away.
Maintaining these bonds is not only healthy but can bring huge comfort and ease in a grief which is ever present.

With tenderness
Nancy x

Grief Groceries

Grief groceries.

Earlier this week I popped out to pick up some grief groceries.

And, I’m likely to be doing another grief grocery shop in the coming days.

Now, you might be wondering what grief groceries are?

So let me share a little bit of wisdom from those grieving.

One of the many things that are said to a griever when their person has just died is “Let me know if you need anything” or “How can I help?”

But here’s the thing, when folks are grieving making decisions or even knowing what they want or need can be just far too difficult.

And this is where grief groceries comes in.

It’s not that they can’t get to the shops (some grievers are high functioning) and it’s not that they have nothing in the house.

But…

Changes in appetite are a universal component of grief, particularly in those early days.

People can lose their appetite completely or over-eat.

Keeping it simple can be helpful to the griever when the physical, mental and emotional capacity to cook diminshes.

So picking up some groceries, food that is easy to cook, some healthy goodies and practical stuff like tissues, lip balm (lips can dry and crack so easily when people are grieving, stressed and crying a lot), hand cream as a treat and for a special touch, a candle to light.

Perhaps add in a precooked home-made meal or two.

Let’s not forget some things they can snack on too and that might include some healthy and some not-so-healthy snacks.

Let us not judge their choices or impose on them what WE think they should be eating. In those early days of grief it is sometimes all a person can do to function.

If you are unable to get them any groceries how about a voucher for a takeaway that can be delivered direct to their door?

Grief groceries.

Just a little way of showing that we care at a time when we can feel so helpless.

With love

Nancy xx

Death has a habit of taking us by surprise.

Death has a habit of taking us by surprise.

We always think we have more time with those we care about than we really do.

Even when death is expected.

Even as our person has begun actively dying.

And the death of our loved-one almost always comes as a shock. It feels so sudden.

Again, even when it’s expected.

It’s a really strange scenario.

You know it’s coming.

You prepare yourself for it.

And yet, you are not ready for it when it does happen.

Sometimes, you sit by your person’s bedside for hours, you get up to go for a pee……..and death happens when you are out of the room.

No matter how much we prepare ourselves psychologically and emotionally nothing can fully prepare us for the finality of it.

Perhaps this is due to the fact that we are so far removed from death. Where once we were cared for at home within a community of support and helpers at the end of life whereas now we are carted off to be cared for by others. Hidden from sight of the community and those around us. As a result few get to befriend the intimacy of death.

Perhaps the shock is because this death is a stark reminder of our own mortality.

Or perhaps we are just not ready to release the spiritual and energetic ties that bind us. Similar to having the umbilical cord between mother and baby cut at birth, this invisible, yet tangible cord that connects us, sends a shockwave through all our systems when it is cut at the moment of death. Where, although this person is ever present in their love, our lives are forced to continue separate or independent of them.

Perhaps it’s a mixture of all the above?

This really, is a reminder, a call to action, to say the things you need to say whilst you can.

Go and visit and hold your person’s hand even if words fail you.

Because, quite often, that touch, that shared moment, says more than words can ever say.

Speak to them, through these words or touch, as if it’s the last time you will see them, because one day, it will be.

This moment really does matter.

With the tenderest of love and affection

Nancy đź’š xx