Day forty-three, 28th April 2020
I thought long and hard about what to write today, or indeed if I should be writing anything at all. Yesterday we received some tragic news that really has shaken us, but as I find writing to be therapeutic for me and have had such great support from you since lockdown began, I didn’t think it was right to just go silent. When you get the shocking news that someone has died unexpectedly it is like a stone being thrown from a height and landing in the pit of your stomach. A heavy feeling settles there but just like a stone breaking the surface of the water, the ripples travel up and down your body, so it feels hard to breath, your legs feel weak and your head aches. Then a numbness takes over until the reality sinks in.
This was not a Covid-19 related death, but we are living in a time when many more thousands of families are experiencing loss and grief than usual, and it doesn’t matter whether it was a virus-related death, an expected death from a long-term illness or one from an accident or unexpected tragic circumstances, loss hurts. It takes time to come to terms with and the new normal of social distancing means our usual methods of comforting each other and beginning the grieving process together have been denied. We can’t jump in the car and return to the UK to hug our families, and it is still too early to know if we can be there for the funeral.
RIP to our lovely, sensitive and caring nephew Ben, aged just 22 and taken too young. Life is precious and should never be taken for granted or thought of as worthless. Please, please reach out if you are struggling with anything, as someone is always there.
Stay indoors, stay safe and keep those special ones you love safe too.
|28th April 2012 Pyrenees
April holiday memory
There is something quite majestic and reflective about a towering mountain, so I thought I would still share this memory from 28th April 2012 on the drive from St Gaudens to Ax-les-Thermes where we saw some fantastic sights as we twisted and turned across the mountains, sometimes on roads so tiny we were sharing them with sheep and goats.