And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

'Do You Realize??' by The Flaming Lips

Everybody processes grief differently. Just like every loss is different, every reaction is different. There is no right or wrong to grieve, and different losses or deaths may affect us in new ways. For example, losing a pet may feel differently to losing a parent, spouse, friend or child.

If you have lost someone recently (or know someone who has),you may find the following useful:

1. Eat and Drink (and Sleep)

Sounds simple, but sometimes you can be so busy or get so distracted that we forget to take care of ourselves. The person we are missing no longer needs nourishment, but we do.

Don't forget to drink plenty of water, eat small meals and take any medication you require. It's also very important you get quality sleep; sleep is when our brain and body process the day's events, and when we heal.

Researchers have found that stress chemicals shut down, and the brain processes emotional experiences, during the REM dream phase of sleep. There’s scientific truth behind the old saying that it will all seem better in the morning.

If someone you know is grieving, consider taking them round some frozen meals, or small easy snacks like fruit, yoghurt, cheese, biscuits. They will be grateful it's one less thing to think about, and they will appreciate the company.

2. It's OK To Cry - and laugh!

It's tempting to 'stay strong', 'keep buggering on', remain stoic. And sometimes this is the best thing to do, depending on the circumstances. Saying that, you've just gone through an emotional event and you may find yourself getting upset or crying at completely random moments. This is normal!

You may also have times of joy and remembrance, and feel guilty about being happy after a loss. Again, this is normal and healthy, not to mention laughing and smiling can make us feel better during a sad time.

3. Take Some Time

Take some time to grieve. If you work, check your contract to see if you are eligible for paid (or unpaid) time off work. Don't put too much pressure on yourself to 'get back to normal' straight away.

What do you enjoy doing? Why not go for a walk around your loved one's favourite park, or listen to their favourite band? Look through some old photos, go for a coffee (or beer) with a friend. Spend time with your relatives, or spend time alone. Read a book, go for a bike ride, cook something tasty, watch your favourite film. Take it easy.

After I lost my mum in 2020 I felt jetlagged for a long period of time. I was dazed, sad and tired. Although work would have been a welcome distraction, it was important to process what had just happened to me.

4. Record Your Thoughts

Either in a paper journal, through photos or even using notes on your phone. Keep track of your thoughts in the days and weeks following the bereavement.

Stress can affect memory, and you may wish to look back at that period of time and remember what you did, who you saw & how you felt.

Everyone reacts differently to grief, and for me the days/weeks somewhat blended together. I have been able to look back through my notes and remember things like time of death, who came to visit, how I was feeling and so on. You may appreciate having these details to hand in the future.

5. Reach out!

It's good to talk, and nobody will think less of you if you need company after a loss. If you don't want to talk, why not go along to a group event such as yoga or meditation?

Some people worry about 'being depressing' or being a burden in their grief. They don't want to worry their friends, or upset their family, or bore their spouse. Think about how you would help YOUR friends if they lost someone. They want to help - they like you and they want to help!

Many work places, as well as GP surgeries, offer access to counselling services. Losing someone can come with a lot of confusing feelings. For example, my mother's death followed a long illness and I felt very guilty at being relieved it was over. Counselling helped, as did talking to my family and friends. You may go through the stereotypical 'rollercoaster of emotions'; laughing one minute, crying the next, guilty one day and relieved the other. This is the normal process of grief, and you will eventually level out in time.

Remember: if at any point you or someone you know is at risk of hurting themselves of others - please ring the Samaritans or 999

https://www.samaritans.org/

Phone: 116 123
Webchat: https://webchat.samaritans.org/

Another great resource is 7cupsoftea, a free emotional support site where you can chat live to volunteer listeners: https://www.7cups.com/

(Top photo was taken December 2020)

Grief Comes in Waves - a reddit post (originally by /u/GSnow)

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

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