Month: January 2025

The death of a friend

Today is a week from the day that myself, the other friend who made our group of three, and the family, will mark the death of my friend and celebrate the gift of her life. I will call this friend J.

My tears are residing just under my eyeballs awaiting any opportunity to spill forth. I don’t like to restrain them, but I do need to maintain my responsibilities of adulting. I feel deeply sad that I will never get to sit with J again. How I loved over a decade of the three of us sitting together, chewing the fat while inhaling high fat fodder.

I feel extremely sad that I will never again get to feel the warmth and love of her presence or her hugs. She wasn’t a typically English hugger, by which I mean she didn’t attempt one of those weird hugs where people try not to actually touch you or where you part hug after half a second for fear of being too affectionate or unreserved. J was one of the best hug givers in my life. The last time I saw her we had a super long hug; proper style. I read somewhere that to benefit from the healing properties of a hug you must maintain it for a certain number of seconds. As a ‘big’ rather than ‘small’ picture person, I can’t recall how many seconds are required so I like to go long!

On that day, I didn’t know that it would be the last hug we would ever have in person. We  did attempt to meet again but the cancer had ravished her body so rapidly that she was never well enough for another visit. I’m grateful for that last hug but as with all those I have loved and lost, I long for just one more; one more hug and one more of everything else we ever shared. It hurts that this longing will not be fulfilled. And now when my gorgeous ball of ginger fluff comes looking for a hug, I try to put down what I am doing and give him my attention. For we never know when a hug will be our last.

My heart hurts and so does my body. Not just from all the painting and furniture moving as I change my house from top to bottom, but also from the distress of grief that my body holds. As another friend remarked to me, as I have the living loss of estrangement from my family, my friends are my family and their deaths all the more pertinent.

In recognition of all this, yesterday was the day of my monthly treat of a massage. What an absolute gift from God my massage lady is and not just for me, as she is offering a special treat of £35 for a one-hour massage in February – ask if you want her details. I can’t recommend her enough.

Anyway, yesterday my poor knackered body and weary soul laid down upon her heated bed where she draped a soft, snuggly blanket over me, put on soothing sounds and began to massage me with oil. I find healthy, safe, human touch to be such a powerful source of healing. And for the first time I was introduced to a massage gun – I did not know these even existed before that moment. B told me she usually reserves this for big men but on this occasion my body was so incredibly knotted that she got the big guns out for me!! It was divine. For the body cannot lie and knows all the stress and distress that it holds whether recent or historical. And that massage was just what the Doctor ordered. At least the soul, spirit and body doctor, otherwise known as the Almighty. (access free to all without waiting lists)

I reluctantly dragged myself up and home where I gifted myself to a period of ‘being’ with a break from doing. A friend recommended the film Resistance about the true story of Marcel Marceau who transported many children to safety during the horrors of the Nazi regime. It took all of about ten minutes of watching this before I had to reach for the ever-present tissues. Children deserve to have their innocence preserved and protected rather than ripped away by human brutality in whatever form. Having just passed the 80th anniversary of all Holocaust related, I was horrified to hear that some young folk are believing b/s that none of this existed. I know that all of us can be drawn by denial as a way to protect ourselves from tragedy, but really?

Anyway, shortly after getting all cosy and comfortable, settled and snuggled with Monty while being a bit snotty and a lot sad, I was snoring! It was so wonderful to give in to what my body so desperately needed.

Grief takes energy on every level whether to contain it while carrying on must occur or whether to let it have its way when time allows. Death and loss cause our hearts to hurt and as with every other type of healing, the internal resources required to heal, take energy and need extra rest to recover. I haven’t given myself this, so to rectify it, I’ve put an immediate ban on everything other than the essentials. I have a wonderful window of responsibility-free time which is in touching distance and I want to get there without collapsing first. And as writing is how I process, voila …

I did prioritise time out to celebrate a friends birthday though because friends are my family – these are the people I do life, loss and love with. And another family/friend sent pictures of her beautiful little new-ish human. Those at the start of life are such a tonic for all things end of life/general life crap.

My friend J was family to me and I will always be grateful for her ability to move towards me and not away, when I was suffering. While we also had fun together and talked about much, she was there when I lost contact with my personality, humour or ability to conversate. Such a precious friend. Such a monumental loss.

I remain grateful for my other friend who made up our group and for the gift of sharing our memories, experiences and loss of J. We will dedicate time next week to the place where the three of us spent so many happy hours together. There we will acknowledge J in any way that is meaningful to us. And then we will go to the official celebration of her life. But before that we are going to see the film about J’s beloved Bob Dylan. I’ll take plenty of tissues!

Once I am in my ‘space-to-be’ window, I will see what words want to come forth to convey my experience of J. I didn’t get to say goodbye in person or tell her what she meant to me or how I valued the gift of her. And so, I am planning to speak on the day that we celebrate her life as my way of acknowledging and honouring her.

Death, loss and grief are painful. But it remains true that the only thing worse than grieving, is refusing to grieve. Sometimes it is remaining connected to the pain within our own hearts, that shows us that we are still alive. And for as long as God grants me, I am all for that.

Cloudy with a chance of casserole

Halfway into January, I’ve noticed a pattern of behaviour that is pertinent to my process of change. I often look at my relationship with certain experiences via my position on a scale. When I recognise that I need to move along the scale, I tend to leap from one end to the opposite end before landing somewhere nearer the middle (eventually, with a bit of a hope and a lot of prayer).

Back in December, I felt decidedly smug as I sat on the sofa feeling warm and snug. Unlike some of my married friends, I don’t have any thermostat police residing in my home which means I can keep it as warm as I like. As a child I hated the house being cold (not just physically), so I like a warm home now. I especially enjoy this warmth not creating a conflict with anyone.

However, I felt decidedly less smug or subsequently snug, when I received the corresponding heating bill! This meant my laissez faire attitude to flicking the heating on and forgetting all about it had to be immediately replaced by taking on the thermostat police position, as well as the, ‘I don’t want to be freezing my arse off’ position. It’s called practising balance and boundaries while managing internal conflicts! Who needs a husband when I can create conflicts within myself!

Yesterday, I started my heating bill reduction program by taking advantage of my morning coffee sweats, a midday run, a slow cooked casserole and later, a long soak in a hot bath. In addition, I utilised my ‘can’t sit still’ way of being, or rather of excess-doing, approach to free time.

When I eventually did sit down to catch up with a friend online, I did so sporting my dual purpose blanket-scarf, hat and proper blanket (on top of my usual clothes) while keeping my paws and insides warm, courtesy of hot tea. It’s become a creative challenge to manage my basal temperature while restricting the number of hours I put the heating on for. I’m attempting to reduce the next bill enough to avoid another sharp intake of breath followed by a swift release of any lingering smugness.

In other pattern spotting, smugness reducing realisations, I discovered that the difficulty I had in re-gaining weight, after being unwell, has now ended. I congratulated myself heartily for not gaining more weight over Christmas. But now, having formed a nightly sugar shovelling habit in the name of getting shot of leftovers, I’ve begun to show signs of a paunch. As I’m far too uncomfortable with that, I’m now implementing restrictions on my intake of remaining Christmas chocolates.

This process has been further aided by Channel 4’s program, Eat Smart, with The Glucose Goddess. I love this – it is simple and has pictures! It also makes sense and offers manageable tweaks to eating habits that reduce glucose spikes. In turn, this can stabilise mood/energy and hormones. A hattrick of wins that counterbalances the loss of sugar intake.

Anyway, this program shares hacks like, ‘eat your vegetables before your carbs’, or, only eat sweet treats after a balanced meal of protein, fat (yes you heard me right – fat is NOT the enemy or rather sugar is the latest replacement of it) and fibre. Apparently, layering your gut with these slows the absorption of glucose thus reducing the spike. This matters because such spikes cause inflammation in the body which contributes to other issues. And, it turns me right off from spending my evenings on the sofa mindlessly shovelling until I am surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers.

I find the human relationship with food to be utterly fascinating. This latest glucose related knowledge offers another creative challenge around how to implement these hacks within daily eating practices.

The third area of learning is around my relationship to spending. I have never suffered from spend-a-holic-ism. Largely helped by a dislike of noise creating crowds plus impatience aggravating queues. I have my fair share of ‘ism’s but spending hasn’t been one of them. Fuelled further by a fear of lack, dating back to when my seventeen-year-old self was kicked out of home.

Anyway, the more God free’s me from tight-arse-fear-driven-itus by reminding me it is all God’s money anyway, the more I permit myself to treats. No more, ‘that cheap old crap will do’, and lots more,’ it just WONT do so I’ll have something I really like’. I’m not talking reckless, just generous, because this is how God is with me. And if it’s alright for him, it’s ok for me to be like this with me and others.

As per my process of change, I have leapt from watching every penny, to waving my plastic cards in the air like I just don’t care. Serious spending sprees are alien to me, but I am adapting frighteningly fast. I’m not talking designer, status-seeking bollocks. But I am talking quirky, characterful, creative and original. Oh yes. Think charity shops, second hand markets/shops and the likes, with a bit of FB market and B & M thrown in! But now, the financial controller part of me is stepping in with stern suggestions around budget shaped boundaries.

The learning never ends!

On a lighter note, this week I discovered a fitting purpose for my cake forks. A friend gave me four stunningly beautiful, if naively small, cake forks presented in a pretty box. These are fabulous to look at but evoke enormous irritation when used for the job they are intended for. They are so tiny, they can only pick up the most minute crumb of cake. As someone not up for being slowed down on any front in any way, these were consigned to the ‘find another use for’ pile.

I typically use forks for cake because I can’t be arsed to wash my hands before or after eating it as opposed to having any delusions of ladylike-ness. But the ones I use, bear more resemblance to a shovel than a minute-morsel-picker. So, yesterday while indulging in a ‘currently all the rage’ avocado starter (or perhaps I’m slow to this particular party), I suddenly realised it was a bit too mushy for finger food. (Does anyone know how to play the lottery of pick-an-avo, better than me; read more green ones and less brown?) Either way, in a moment of genius, I realised the tiny not-for-cake forks would be perfect for spearing pieces of slightly mushy avo with. They would also prevent any need for handwashing – gotta love a two birds approach right?

The other light-hearted enjoyable exchange occurred during my supermarket meanderings earlier in the week. See previous blog post.

While I was checking out the bedsheets covered in the word ‘sale’, the lady next to me, declared,

“No ironing?  I’m in’.

We both laughed and she went on to tell me that her mother gave her one piece of advice ahead of her marriage,

“When your husband asks you to iron something for him, do one item extremely badly”.

Again, we both laughed and this time, I replied,

“I went a step further and didn’t even get the husband!”.

In fact, the more I listen to some wives talking about their husbands, whether ex or current, the more I think a wife would be a wiser option! Or perhaps the ultimate combo would be a husband and a wife!

A day of two halves; sorrow and laughter

We’re born, we live, we die a thousand deaths across a lifetime then experience a thousand and one re-births (if we’re determined) before our body breathes its last.

Today was a day that bought life and death up close and personal.

Grief is such a peculiar and deeply personal animal. It’s a week today since my friend died. It’s been full of ordinary life which continues as before, except it can never fully be as it was before. But the business of adulting has taken front stage while the grief has travelled along the sidelines, never far away. None of us can simply sit with sorrow all the time, neither is it helpful to ignore it all the time. The balance of giving space and silence to connect with and honour the grief versus tending the ongoing responsibilities of life, is a deeply unique and ever changing experience that we must experiment with, to find and then maintain. And the emotions of grief, in whatever form, can be exhausting. This means more rest where possible. Not my forte.

This morning, I had an exchange with the family of this friend. They were able to share the place and time where we will acknowledge her passing and celebrate her life. They sent songs that are speaking to them in their sorrow. And these interactions cut straight to the heart of my own grief ripping it right open to allow the rawness to come forth in response. She’s gone and she’s not coming back. It takes time to absorb something so incomprehensible, irreversible and painful (not to mention a shit ton of tissues – I congratulated myself on re-stocking them yesterday!)

Today as I listened to those songs, felt the sentiment of them and remembered the times of us dancing together. I laughed and I cried and I danced some more. I felt a little lighter. Not a lot but a little.

And then my time of being with grief was gone as today I was taking a good friend out for her birthday. Talk about one extreme to the other; death to celebration of life. I asked for some help from on high to make the transition so I could fully engage with my friend’s celebration.

At her request we started as all good celebrations start ie with a good sit down scoff. One of the first songs to come on the radio was my friend’s beloved Teddy Pendergrass – she looked at me in wide eyed wonder and I looked right back at her!

‘Well, I never know what He’ll do but I did say I prayed for your birthday!’, I offered.

This friend is a staunch atheist who graciously tolerates me praying for her even though I continue to ungraciously point out when the God she doesn’t believe in, answers them (which is frequently!)

Anyway, in response to Teddy playing from on high, I gestured an invitation to the imaginary dance floor in between the restaurant tables. Up we rose for a little shimmy as it would have been positively rude not to. And dancing is one of the things that bonds us!

Anyway, during lunch, this friend reflected on the times she had been at that very venue with her mother, who she misses. I asked her what her mother would say to her if she was there now. Without a second’s hesitation, she replied,

‘Happy Birthday’!

And we laughed so hard and for so long, I wished I hadn’t shovelled my food in quite so fast! That’s one of the other things that bonds us; silly, shared humour!

The radio continued to play many of my friends’ old favourites! Good times. High five Jesus!

A little post lunch saunter down the road saw me buy a bunch of snow drops for their encouragement, beauty and flower gazing potential. Plus, some pansies that were actually violas, in purple and yellow, because who doesn’t need these in the Winter.

As I love learning first hand from those who know way more than I do, I decided to pick the flower selling man’s brains for snowdrop survival strategies. I learned that snowdrops are not to be moved from their pots while growing – this is where lots of folk gone wrong apparently. And, they need to be around other snowdrops to realise their full growing potential.

‘Oh, like humans you mean?’ I asked’.

‘Yes’, he replied!

Wow, I love how nature reflects these lessons back to us all the time if only we are willing to lean in, look and listen to their wisdom.

Next on the fun menu was a leisurely, browsing session round a huge supermarket that neither of us usually go to. In there we bought a whole heap of stuff we never knew we needed, thanks mainly to clever marketing and a repeated use of the word ‘sale’. Plus, we got to dance again on another imaginary dance floor in between the clothes rails. We’re nothing if not resourceful.

On the return to the car my friend remarked that I hadn’t been rushing like I usually do. Wow! Part 2. Now this really is progress. Go me. Slowly of course.

All in all, we had fun. A super-birthday-sized portion of the stuff. And it felt good. As well as totally in contrast to the start of the day. This is life in all its duality and richness, joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, life and death. The ability to celebrate the life still being lived while acknowledging the life that will no longer be lived in bodily form yet lives on within me.

Each day really is a gift, even the ones we’d rather send back. All we can do is keep living, loving, losing, learning and for me, dancing!

Sunny soul-soothing Saturdays

What a glorious day, more so for the stretch of sun-hiding-grey we have just endured.

Today, I cancelled my scheduled plans to gift myself the space and solitude that is essential for me to grieve well. It was this week that ended my friends suffering of cancer. And for me, the best way to grieve is to grant myself a break from doing, to give extra time for being. I need the space, silence and solitude that allows spontaneity to have its way.

First thing, this involved fresh coffee, drank in bed while savouring the silhouette of the tree branches against the changing sky. As a recovering rush/do-a-holic, who regularly relapses, nature offers one of my most effective ways of stopping. Nature gives of its ever changing, soul satisfying scenes, that stun me in to stopping for long enough to savour them (sometimes!). Gosh that was a lot of s’s.

Anyway, the deepening of the blue sky enhanced by the increased presence of the sun saw me unable to resist going out to play in God’s great playground. I’m a visual person and I wanted to see how everything looked in the crisp white frost. I got dressed and brushed, if not washed (don’t judge, I was going solo) and sauntered off to see where my feet took me. I wanted to get a paper anyway – one that most people hate and some judge me for reading. But hey, I don’t believe everything of much these days, but I do enjoy the human-interest stories, tv guide and recipes of this paper! So, I opted for the two birds’ approach of picking up a paper and letting my feet take me wherever they wanted to.

As is often the case, they took me straight to a body of water, on this occasion the river. I love to see it dressed in all kinds of seasons especially the magical, white frosty ones. It didn’t disappoint with the scenes it displayed. Next, I travelled by the river taking photos of whatever captured my attention along the way. Apart from the man whose camera was way bigger and better than mine! While prone to ‘monkey see, monkey want’ tendencies, this time I was grateful I wasn’t lugging that large lens around. I hate carrying things when I’m walking.

Scene after scene of stunning beauty sat there waiting to wow me. And I was wowed. At one point, a robin flew across my eye line before perching on a bit of wood off to my right. I love how robins have this tendency to fly in front of me singing,

‘Look at me, look at me,

I’m as pretty as can be’.

As I am known to sometimes miss what is right under my nose, I am grateful for their attention ensuring style for I do indeed find them to be as pretty as can be. As I fumbled around trying to take a picture, the robin refused to hold the pose and flew off in to the undergrowth. When this happens, I like to think it was a sight and moment just for me! If I do manage to capture something beautiful, I like to share it!

As I took a different route home, I happened to walk past a child’s playground. I answered the swings call to have-a-go on it. As I was happily swinging higher and faster, feeling free and childlike, it started making a disturbing creaking noise. Personally, I didn’t think I gained that much weight over Christmas but perhaps they are made for children younger and lighter than me!

At one point I even had to shed my jumper, scarf and coat. Not for long though. The top to toe refurbishment of perimenopause means my internal thermostat is still faulty. But at times helpful when the weather is cold but I am not.

The next offering of the day was a beautiful tree standing firm and proud while providing a meeting spot for the local winged choir. It sounded so beautiful I captured it on my phone to share. How I love these sights and sounds!

A little further along I passed the man who served me my newspaper. He told me he only walks by the river in summer. What? After showing him a selection of photo’s of where I had just walked (whether he wanted to see or not), he said he would go home to find suitable footwear and check it out for himself. I hope he did for it’s all right there for us to see and savour.

All along my saunter through these scenes, I was remembering shared moments with my friend. I feel so enriched for my experiences with and of her.

Fortunately, I was only a few minutes from my house when the movement of my body bought on a parallel process of some internal movement within my body. What started as a gentle knocking on the back door became more persistent with each step.  Some folk may call this an overshare, I call it, we all have a body which does all kind of weird, wonderful and un wonderful things and as a therapist I’m for talking about it all! Fortunately, I made it home in good time minus having to attempt a sprint in my walking boots.

And now, I feel lighter in every way. This despite having fed every part of me; the heart, mind, body, soul and spirit. That’s what I call a banquet and I feel very satisfied.

Now I will listen to worship music while making a sweet treat for tonight where I will be indulging in four of my favourite things; time with a friend, food shared, a film I’ve been wanting to watch and a fire for warmth. Log burner to be precise but that didn’t flow as well.

I might even treat myself (and my friend) to me having a hot bath first and perhaps a cool-bed-sheeted siesta.

And more time sat basking in the sunshine, tree gazing and birdsong enjoying. I may even get to read that paper but then again, that might have to be a treat for tomorrow.

Gosh I love days like these.

While my friend is no longer in her body, my experience of her remains very much alive in my heart, mind, body and spirit. And I’ll write more about that later.

Happy Saturday peops; whether you are happy, sad, or in between, nature or whatever your equivalent to this is, invites you to indulge. This is how we take care of ourselves.