I haven’t written about my grief journey for awhile. Partly because I don’t want to come across as a pity party, I have also been busy doing some fab courses that have helped me and, in turn, I’m hoping will help you.
In the months following Julian dying, I received Reiki. I cannot explain why it helped but it did, so much so that I went onto train in not only Reiki but elemental Reiki as well. I love giving a treatment- I receive as many blessings whilst giving it as the client tells me they receive.
I also did a ‘grief enabler’ course with David Kessler. Author of numerous books and a bereaved Father, so he walks his talk.
Sometimes in grief, we want and need space to talk about our emotions, sadness, and anger. And sometimes we do not want to share that space with friends or family but we still feel the need to talk. This is where a ‘grief enabler’ comes in. I offer space without judgement or advice, just a listening ear and a cup of tea.
Whilst writing the above it occurred to me that not only do I have the experience of losing my husband and my Father but both my breasts courtesy of breast cancer.
I have digressed from what I actually wanted to write about, and that is. About 2 months after Julian died, my Mother very kindly took my sister and me away for a few days to Morocco. I loaded up my kindle with very carefully chosen books – books that would uplift me. I got to the airport and realised I had left my kindle at home. I had got it into my head that the only thing that was going to help me navigate the few days away was these books on my kindle. The only solution was to buy a new kindle and log into my account. Which after a lot of stress as I couldn’t remember my password and a tearful phone call, I managed. My mother and sister thought I was completely mad, and I probably was, but for me, then I needed the comfort of the self-help books and the novels that I had cherry-picked. I wasn’t able in any shape or form of going to a book store and picking out some new books; I was just about capable of putting one foot in front of another. Sometimes in grief, we do and say things that are incomprehensible to others or even ourselves, and that is okay. It’s more than okay.