Red Roses and Robins

Everyone loses their grandparents right?
It is the natural order of things.
It isn’t right if it is any other way – I know because I know of a situation where a couple not only lost their daughter but their grandson, both within the space of a year. It was tragic in the most genuine sense of the word.

Everyone has a different relationship with their Grandparents.
Some are estranged, some see them only on special occasions, some see them every day, some live with them.

So when the dreaded time comes – for some, sooner than others – everyone has a different experience.

When people hear that an immediate member of the family has died, there is understandably a deep level of empathy for those left behind.
When it comes to the loss of Grandparents, people are loving, supportive and caring, but not always knowing the relationship someone had with a Grandparent, do they understand the impact? Can they understand and see the depth of the grief someone may  experience at the loss of a Grandparent?

I read that when we grieve we wait until we get through it, until we move on from it – when the reality is, we don’t move on from it – we move on with it. We accept the new version of ourselves that exist without that loved one – a new life with them no longer being physically in it. This is exactly the belief I have always had – We don’t move on from it, we accept it – we absorb the grief and it becomes a part of our story.

I imagine there are very few people who have not lost someone they love.
My husband only had his first loss of a loved one earlier this year, in his 30’s – in this respect, I have always thought him to be very lucky, to have gotten so far in life without having experienced it.

This time of year can be especially painful if you have experienced a loss.
And all the more painful if you have experienced a loss at this time of year.

You might have felt the pain of coming home from a Christmas pantomime to find out your loved one has suddenly been taken.
You might have thought you had the strength to call your friend and tell them of your loss, thinking you were strong enough to tell them, and then breaking down when the words don’t come out.
You might have been excited for a Christmas party and thought you had the strength to go, but it never felt the same when you did.
You might have had the pain of knowing for every Christmas card coming through your loved one’s door, it was another person who had to be told they are gone.
You might have had the morbid anticipation when a card came through your own door… wondering if it would be a Christmas card or a sympathy card.
You might have been reminded of the one you love whenever you see a robin on a Christmas card.
You might have had to shop for funeral wreaths instead of Christmas wreaths.
You might have spent your days at the Undertakers seeing plans for a funeral due to take place days before Christmas, instead of doing last minute Christmas shopping.
You might have had to put aside the Christmas gifts you bought them in favour of laying them to rest with a single red rose and saying your goodbyes.
You might know how it feels. You might have your own memories and experiences.

For me, there was one particular loss which was a huge moment in my life. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it was life changing. It is something I still think about so regularly… constantly torturing myself with “What ifs” and “I wish”… and yet for nothing… because nothing can change it.
Like I said above, I have absorbed it, moved on with it, not from it. It is a part of me, and a part of my story. It has shaped who I am today. I just hope it is someone to be proud of.