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Pain – thank you for your service


It’s weird, nowadays I usually have a clear idea of what I’m going to talk about when I sit down to write, it’s been some four years since I felt the need to write for the sake of writing, for the therapy of it rather than because I had something specific to say.

Let’s see where this goes.

I went to a funeral yesterday of a friend, Aleks who died aged 36.

I was incredibly struck by the beauty of the service and celebration after.

She was bright and bubbly. The service was bright and bubbly.

She was quirky and loved life. The service and celebration afterwards was equally as quirky and a celebration of her love of life.

She loved cocktails. I saw many people celebrating her love of cocktails at the celebration after the service also!

I thought I’d come a long way since Claire died and indeed I know I have but yesterday was a reminder that what happened on 17 April 2013 will always be with me.

I guess it served as yet another reminder that this healing process through grief is not necessarily about finding ways to make the pain go away, rather, it’s about finding ways to live with the pain. I genuinely don’t believe we can make that pain go away, that pain is always with us, always there, hiding in the background yet not in a dark and threatening sense.

The pain is there to serve as a reminder of all that we have lost and in that sense the pain is good.

I don’t believe we should shy away from feeling that pain, if it’s there, embrace it, welcome it, acknowledge it for the transient emotion that it is, thank it for its service and then let it go again until the next time.

As there will always be a next time.

The pain will always resurface and when it does we repeat the same process.

This is the new normal, this is the new life, this is the way things are now and probably will always be.

So today, I’m rejoicing in the knowledge that the intense love that Claire and I shared is still there through the pain that I experienced yesterday.

Love and pain at the same time… Another lesson in learning to let go and just experience what is…


This post is dedicated to Aleks Morris. 15th of January 1982 – 28th of February 2018 and to her family and friends.

Aleks, You made me feel so welcome in my new house when I moved to Dorset 4 years ago. You shared laughter, wine and chocolate with us on many occasions, often quite loudly… I think I never told you I could hear you howling with laughter from over the road with my windows shut!

Thank you Aleks for all you brought to my life in the few years I’ve known you.

Farewell my friend.