FIVE LESSONS FROM GRIEF..

I’ve mulled over this blog post for WEEKS now! Back and forth, type and delete, type and delete…

For the love of god I do not want to come across as if I’m seeking sympathy – because I’m not. And this being an extremely personal topic and one that is very close to my heart - I wanted to do it justice. I want to shed light on the lessons I’ve learnt throughout what’s been one of the hardest yet most valuable experiences I’ve ever been through.

Its been just over two months since we lost dad. These past two months have taught me lessons of unmeasurable value, lessons I know one has to go through to truly learn, but lessons I think can bring value to our lives if we talk about and apply them.

#1. Show love. To everyone. Always.

Strangers in the supermarket, the cashier behind the window at your local drive thru, the old lady who’s driving 30kms per hour in front of you in an 50km zone. It sounds AWFULLY cliché but.. Everyone has a story we all know absolutely nothing about. Its not until I was experiencing the grief of losing dad myself that I realised how completely oblivious the people around you are to your hurt, your grief or sadness and how oblivious we are to theirs. I would walk through the supermarket, pick out my groceries, tell the shop attendant my day was “great, thanks” when she asked. It made me realise if I could waltz through the supermarket as if it were just any other Wednesday then so could the rest of the world.Everyone is experiencing hurt, whether it be from 20 years ago or 20 minutes ago. We are all collateral damage of living and we all deserve love. Remember this, always!

#2 Grief is not linear

As a self-proclaimed busy-body who just likes to go, go, go this was perhaps the hardest pill to swallow. I think about this often. You see, grief is a great Monday and a bloody shithouse Wednesday. It feels like being at sea in a small dingy not big enough to handle the rough ocean. In the beginning the sea is especially rough and it feels like you can barely catch a break. Functioning is hard. Getting off your bed and to the supermarket is hard. Working, socialising, walking the dog is hard. Waves come and wash over you and completely wipe you out. But eventually the sea settles, the skies clear and in between you can breathe and you can get on with it. You’re constantly checking your weather app hoping for some blue skies soon! Blue skies will come and they will go. And you wont know how long they’re going to stay when their here. Eventually there will be more time in between the big waves that wipe you out, the summers will become longer and the weather will become more predictable. Events will approach and you’ll feel as though you’re helpless to the approaching storm about to rock your boat – fathers day, birthdays, Christmas.

But you will re-surface, you always re-surface.

I imagine these seas never get easier to navigate, but we will become better sailors!

#3. Nothing Is more important than our health or our family

Of course I don’t envisage myself never being stressed over something small ever again. I have my own goals and ambitions and I will always be working toward these but I will now be doing it with an awareness of the bigger picture. WAY to often we get so wrapped up in life’s modern day dramas. The bruised apples at the supermarket, the postman left ANOTHER “we missed you” card at the doorstep, the cat is using the couch as a scratching post again… We get so wound up in such minor things and we’re all guilty of dwelling on them. Recently however, I’ve learnt how important family is, how important it is to say the things you want to say, to make the memories while you can and to look after ourselves so we can give this life a good crack! You wont remember the bruised apples, the stupid “we missed you” signs you’ve been collecting or the damaged couch when there is a life on the line. None of this will matter, so don’t let it now.

#4. Rock bottom is a blessing in disguise

In some ways, I feel lucky. This doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give absolutely anything to see dad again, hear his voice, have him at my wedding one day or to hold my first born, but I realise how lucky I am to experience the things and learn the lessons I have. I’m saying a lot of horrendously cliché things in this blog, but grief is life-changing. A lot of who you are is taken to the grave with whoever is gone – at least this is how I felt. Dad left and he took a huge chunk of all of us – a chunk we had to repair and rebuild. But without dad this hole could never be rebuilt the same. Its like your trying to put the pieces together on a puzzle with all the wrong pieces. But still, I am lucky. I know no matter the heartache, I can make it. No matter how dark, there is always light at the end of the tunnel – I know this now. I’ve mentioned to a good friend how much I’ve always appreciated the physical human body and how much it is capable of. Our hearts beat without our conscious input, we breathe spontaneously without having to think. Although I’ll always be in awe of our bodies, grief has shed a new light on the strength of a humans mental health. Never could I have imagined making it through the heartache of losing dad – and still I cant imagine the heartache ever not being there. I cant imagine feeling myself again, or going a day without feeling upset that hes gone – but I know I’m going to be okay regardless. I know I will quietly mourn on my wedding day and when my first born is laid on my chest but I also know everything will absolutely be okay.

#5. Your legacy becomes your motivation.

I’ve never been to a bigger funeral than my dad’s and I’ve never witnessed the amount of love that I witnessed from the people who knew him. He was generous, humble and he lived for the happiness and freedom of his family. I hope to provide even half the life he provided for us kids. I am so lucky.

I’ve realised, while we’re earth-side, we’re connecting and we’re making an impact wherever we go (whether we like it or not). Realising this makes me want to ensure this impact is a positive one, be kind, be helpful, be true to yourself, be generous, be loving, remember we’re all equal and be humble.

All these lessons, and so many more, have all been a part of the last few months. Every inch of me wants my dad back, but I realise the gifts this hardship has brought. I don’t feel sorry for myself, I know that the 22 years I got was 22 years longer than some. I know how fortunate I am and I am not looking for sympathy, I simply want to shed light on the invaluable lessons which have surfaced from a pretty bloody shitty time.

Vaida x