I was planning on writing a last blog for EDAW on Sunday, one that involved an optimistic view on how not all GPs were clueless, how I was lucky with mine and you could be lucky with yours if you tried. (Seriously be brave, you can do this)
Bare with me guys that blog is in me, it’s still there waiting to come out but right now my words, heart and soul are all being filled with something else.
Last night my family received some news that I think is still painfully sinking in. We were told that our beloved Nan, Nanny Jean, had passed away.
It’s a surreal feeling knowing that someone you love so dearly is no longer with you, no longer able to talk or move or even give you one of those beautiful smiles. It is so hard to believe that one-second they were here and the next gone forever. It is so heart wrenchingly painful that it creates an automatic panic, a panic to preserve and protect all that is left, quick remember, capture her laugh, her smell, her embrace, her presence and bottle it so that the memory lasts forever. Quick before it’s gone…..before you lose it forever……capture it quick…..If only you could.
You sit there speechless searching and searching for the words to say to make things ok, to make things better, less painful, more manageable, and not even for yourself but for those around you. You watch as others that you love dearly fall apart and crumble, knowing, even though it cuts to your core, that there is absolutely nothing you can do. There is no solution as there is no problem, a problem can be fixed, this is unfixable.
It’s a double wammy of loss and hopelessness.
The funny thing about grief is that when it’s settling in it’s almost like you wear it on you. It’s written all over you. Walking around in public its almost as if you expect people to look at you and just KNOW. The cloud of darkness you carry is so real and so prominent to you that it’s hard to believe that other people can’t see it suffocating you and weighing you down.
RIP Nan. You loved and were loved by so many.