Tuesday, 18 October 2011

Out of sight, but never out of mind





I recently caught a virus that was doing the rounds. This developed into a nasty throat infection, and being stuck at home feeling rather sorry for myself, I decided to turn my thoughts instead to Laura.  
After Laura’s funeral we were asked if we had photos and happy stories for her children’s Memory boxes.  A Memory box is a keepsake full of photos, letters, and mementos of a person who has died. It can be particularly helpful in assisting the grieving process, particularly with children.  Laura’s children are very young (8 and 6) and although they will have many memories of her, as they get older they may have to ‘borrow’ from others who knew her well, so that they can grow up with a real sense of the person she was.  This is where I come in.  
I have loads of memories of Laura as a child growing up, but they wanted a few of her late teens, early twenties, so I picked this amusing one. I think her children and family will enjoy reading it as much as I did remembering it.  I share it here with you on my blog:
One of the amusing memories I have of Laura, is when she worked at Wimbledon during the famous tennis tournament, it was somewhere around 1998/1999, when she was still at university.
If you studied at either St Mary’s College, Strawberry Hill, (me and my sister) or Roehampton College (as Laura did), it was everyone’s burning desire to earn some much needed cash by working at either the Rugby at Twickenham as a steward, or at the tennis at Wimbledon.  We all talked about it, but Laura was the only one who bothered to actually do it!  When I asked her what she would be doing, she proudly (whilst trying not to giggle too much) replied to me that she would be a toilet attendant.  I too, stifling a giggle, congratulated her on this job (wondering if being a steward would be somewhat more glam..). But she was very quick to point out that it wasn’t just the normal toilets she would be in charge of, but the players’ toilets – a great honour; to be replenishing soap and towels. 
So there we all were picturing Laura hard at work, folding fluffy towels and refreshing posh soap dispensers, when the BBC Six O’clock news came on our TVs.  One of the top headlines was Wimbledon of course – being that the Championships were in full swing. But imagine our surprise and to our great amusement when who should we also see on screen too, but Laura – right up at the front of the queue of fans!  It’s traditional for players to sign a few autographs for their fans on their way off centre court, and Laura couldn’t resist being amongst that crowd, apparently – seeing as she was actually there!  I can’t quite remember who the player was, but it was either Pete Sampras or Greg Rusedski, someone top anyway. 
The next time I saw Laura, I playfully scolded her, and asked her who then was actually attending her toilets, whilst she was busy mingling with famous tennis champions, and appearing on the BBC News? She just grinned back at me in the normal cheeky way she used to.
I love this memory of Laura as it reminds me of how laid back she was; never work shy, but always full of fun, childlike, and a bit quirky.
Laura you are gone from our lives but never ever forgotten.
Jane x

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Life, Love and Death


Recently three people close to me died within the space of a month. It’s not the first time someone I know has died, and it will most certainly not be the last.  I am by no means the first person this has ever happened to. I am not unique or special, but I did want to put a few words down, not only to express how I felt in the days and weeks after, but to maybe help anyone who has also suffered the death of a loved one.
Death is a subject many people are averse to talking about. Indeed most people won’t even say the word. Instead they use words like, ‘passed away’ or ‘lost’. They often avoid contact with someone they know has just suffered the death of someone close to them, fearing they won’t know what to say to that person or how to deal with them.
But as the saying goes, there are two things certain in life: death and taxes! Some of us will live to a good old age - like my paternal grandmother who died at 85.  Some die relatively young such as my maternal grandfather, who I never got the chance to meet and who died at 60. Others are very young, like my best friend Hilary, who died when we were at school aged just 15.  There are no answers or reasons and most of the time death seems to make no sense at all and leaves mainly a loss so harsh that you physically feel the pain in your heart.
What I write here is by no means what everyone feels when they suffer bereavement.  Everyone feels different and will cope in their own way – there are no right or wrong ways to grieve, just as there are no right or wrong ways to comfort someone who is grieving.  It takes time and requires patience, kindness and understanding.  I would like to express how I have been feeling lately, and what I personally found helpful and comforting. 
I have recently gone through some of the harshest emotions I have in a long time. The first I felt was shock – numbness, quickly followed by disbelief.  Two of the deaths, and particularly my cousin in Italy were sudden and unexpected, so I found it hard to take in.  This was swiftly followed by an unbelievable sadness and terrible pain. I actually felt physical pain in the pit of my stomach. 
I am not one for crying as a rule, but I began to sob on a regular basis. It got to the point when I wondered when the tears would stop.  I found myself crying mainly at night, but also when out in the supermarket, or when I was running – which was better as because I was sweating too, no one knew I was crying!
Then came the anger - real intense and terrible anger. I wondered why someone aged only 33 would have their life cut short.  I was angry with God, I was angry with the doctors.  I was especially angry that two little children were left without their mummy, a young husband without his wife, and a mother without her daughter.    I also felt guilt.  There was a point when I felt I would gladly have swapped places with my friend Laura who was dying of cancer.  I am not married and don’t have children, and believed she deserved to live more than I did!
The next emotions that gripped me were fear and anxiety, which then led to insecurity and confusion.   I feared that everyone I knew and loved would drop down dead. I wondered if I myself might get ill. My cousin in Italy had leukaemia, which is also what my Italian grandmother had suffered from and what another cousin in the same family had as a child. This scared me. I began to withdraw a little from certain situations, and some people. Physically I didn’t want some people to touch me.  I remember at one of the funerals, someone came up to me and threw his arms around me, as if this would be nice for me – at the time it wasn’t.  One day I think I actually quite upset one person by telling her not to hug me when she greeted me for lunch. 
When people you love and care about leave you in life – whether through death or the breakdown of a relationship you often don’t want to form new relationships for fear that these people you start to care about may leave you too eventually. You start to ‘rubbish’ the friendships you are in already too.  I started to doubt whether people loved me anymore or cared about me.  At first, I found myself not returning people’s texts, or ignoring the phone.  I also found myself irritable with my family and had uncontrollable outbursts of anger towards my mother who is actually the person I am the closest to in my life.  I had periods when I just wanted to be totally alone and for no one to talk to me at all, or ask me how I was – how I was feeling.  But then I had moments when I just really needed a hug and someone to tell me that everything was going to be alright again – that life would get better. I also felt it incredibly helpful and somewhat consoling to talk, as well as listen, to people who had suffered the loss of a loved one themselves.  I didn’t think I would want to talk about it, but with someone I trusted, this was and still is, one of the ways that I am getting through this all.
Someone once told me that grief is the most powerful emotion you will ever feel.  I can vouch for that.  At times it has felt like it has engulfed me, and I have not wanted to be going through it. But in a strange way, I also feel like what I have been through these past 5 weeks or so, and what I am still experiencing, will help me grow stronger and hopefully make me a better more compassionate person. One of the commonest things people say after someone dies is that life is short and that therefore we should make the most of it.  This is so true, but I would add that your outlook on life changes – well mine did.    I don’t want to live with regrets or anger or bitterness. I want to live a meaningful, fulfilling life. I know that I want to spend more time with my family and friends and the people I love and to tell them I love them – so they know! 
Recently I was teaching my baby niece who is also my God-child, to say “I love you”, amusingly she just kept saying “Peppa Pig” (which is her favourite thing of all time at the moment).  She is only 22 months old, but I hope that she grows up feeling loved and that she loves others too.
One thing that was apparent from the funerals that I went to this last month was that they were all so loved by so many people and will be greatly missed.  Although this makes the loss more painful to a certain extent, how wonderful it is that they were.  Some people die without ever knowing the love of another person. 
Life is precious and is over in the blink of an eye.  I think this is the first time I have really understood this.  I thank God for my life so far and for the lives of those people around me, and hope that I am known as a kind and generous person and that my family and friends know how much I love them and that I appreciate their support.


Requiescat in pace Alan, Laura and Melina xxx

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
 Christina Rossetti