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.
