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Emotions aren’t neat and tidy. They don’t have a specific box to be kept in. They don’t necessarily arrive one at a time. Though when I went through therapy intensly, there was a separation so that each could have a focus, like a sun’s ray piercing into that in that moment. Those will be spoken about at some stage. As for now, I’m expressing what brought me to wanting that therapy.

So with my experiencing of grief, I can see how the conceptual list of stages seems to correlate though the order is somewhat more random than is supposed. Acceptance of the loss was quick, I knew he was gone, not to return in that known physical form. Anger, for sure, ebbing and flowing in a sea of sadness. A sea that would also swell and calm yet ever present. Bargaining however doesn’t feel right in my own circumstances. There’s no doubt that all the consequential gains that Gavin gifted to ourselves and his sister by naming us as beneficiaries on the event of his death in service to the company he worked for, have delivered a lightening of financial burdens. To pay off a small mortgage and undertake alterations to the family home was indeed a gift, yet I would rather have Gavin here and present in the flesh. Though that is not a bargaining after the fact. Having observed the rest of the family go through the decline and passing of my mother in law. I saw a bargaining of sorts. That decline, perhaps, instigates an early grieving process where bargaining can take place. Promises to a ‘higher power’ outside the human condition that may ease the loved ones burden of supposed pain and suffering of we are to offer a change of behaviour or some such. That bargaining that aligns with a watching so.eone undergo treatment for a life changing illness or cancer. Where we offer parts of ourselves inexchange for a speedy recovery or a relief from hurt or distress.

On consideration perhaps in grief, there is a bargaining for ones own salvation from the pain of the sorrow. An asking for relief of feeling as we do. That wasn’t my experience, yet it may be someone else’s.

As I write though, emotions are messy and entangled and what starts as one thing morphs to another or just feels like a huge confusion. That’s OK. To be confused is to allow those feelings to sift and sort. For insights to be offered when we actually sit and feel. Accepting tgat these feelings are to have their way for now so they may settle for awhile. Allow a respite to come and calm the body for a moment. Sift and separate the big, lumpy, gulpy sobs to subside and let the more nuanced feelings rise to be felt fully. For me that’s where guilt surfaced from the depths.

I mentioned in my last blog about how my anger would come in waves, as does all emotions. Strong emotions ask for release in the moment they are felt. Yet the thinking mind can step in and say,’I’m not ready for this’ ‘not now as I dont feel in a safe space’. A survival mode possibly as there is that idea that it will make us too vulnerable and hurt, and that would also hurt others more than if it is suppressed. A needing to be strong for the sake of not hurting others. Feeling those emotions as and when they arise, to acknowledge them, to allow their expression is to allow space for others to be how they need to be. Being vulnerable can be a strength, where there is allowing others to see that it’s OK to sob with sadness, rail at the world for the seeming injustices done to onesself and others. To also find a gratitude in awful circumstances, for what we can learn about ourselves and what it is to be human. I’m sure many have said that emotion is simply ‘energy in motion’ and its a felt truth for me. The current of anger, grief or sadness can be an undertow that pulls me down, yet to feel that is to allow it to flow. The flow releases its force and I can bob up to the surface and take a breath. Even float on the tide for a while. Be brought to a place where my feet can touch the bottom and support the body until the next roller washes me out to sea again. As in the months and years that follow, there will be an upsurge, maybe even a tsunami of overwhelm that takes me away from and into my self. The paradox where by feeling unfastened from safe shores of what I think I know, anchored to what is thought to be my place, to a place where I feel everything so as to become unburdened. As for the anger it has been brought to balance as I now see that all did the best they can with what they had and knew in their moments. A combination of circumstances that ended in Gavins’ demise. Lessons to be learned for all of us. Awareness to be raised about PEs and DVT’s that can save lives. It’s a condition that doesn’t discriminate by age or gender, weight or fitness

There is also the sub-consciousness that will take upon its self a suppression of emotion, solely and soully for survival, as to feel fully of that moment would be overly harmful for the body. My reflection of my experiences is that one day that will all resurface to be felt one day. I have seen that be embracing all emotions around Gavins death I opened the possibility to my subconscious that there may be a readiness to rewitness past events that though suppressed beyond conscious knowing for years. They may finally be felt and heard. More of that another time.

My anger in grief was at a time when there was such confusion, overwhelm of emotions. Yet what was I angry at? The Doctor that Gavin saw 10 days before he died that perhaps didnt try hard enough, wasnt experienced enough to look beyond the tick box of triage. The system in hospitals for having a tick box exercise, that perhaps over smoothes the symptoms, reduces everything to statistical probabilities, to speed things up. Humans arent one size! We have aberations and outliers. Then there’s the anger at Gavin as he didn’t go back to the Doctors. Why didn’t he take better care of himself ? Following the trail of emails and texts on his phone, as part of the investigation that had to be done at the hospital, we could see that he did his best. As for the hospital the NHS system failed, the Doctor did what he thought was right, given what he knew at that time. He has to live with and hopefully learn from that. Then theres anger at what ever belief system is held. Be that a god, gods or simply a power out there that decides fates. For me it was a generalising of why did he have to be taken now. Leaving us, here, in pain and sorrow. To deal with all the details and feelings that come with being a parent suddenly losing a child, no matter how old they are. The anger that perversly turns to that power and says why is this happening to me, to us, the family left behind.

An interesting phrase ‘left behind’ is it because we innately believe that they have moved forward, gone onward to a different phase of being, and we are still here in our bodied state.

Anger then turned onto myself, why didn’t I do more to help him! He was a grown man, that allowing, over his growing up years to make his own choices. Live his own life. I couldn’t frog march him to the Doctors, yet there’s always the feeling I should have done more. That is when guilt comes to visit.

I don’t ‘do’ anger, that is, I have difficulty expressing anger. I tend to swallow the feeling and stuff it down. I see now that it is my conditioning from experiencing others’ anger, whether directed at me, as a child, or simply seeing its effect on the one who is angry. My mother looked ugly and scary when she was angry, and that was often directed at me, a child. Anger was not a good experience as I only ever saw its unhealthy expression from others. A harming that was taken deeply to heart. I am aware that within me, there is still anger from many past circumstances that will surface to be expressed in some way.

So for me, these focal points of anger though right-fully felt and acknowledged, were not sustained, perhaps the overwhelming sadness, which is emotionally strength sapping allowed them to diminish in magnitude. To become accepted or perhaps simply put away, with little expression required on my part, then. The opening up to surrendering to my innate ‘not knowing why but doing it anyway’ of being in grief and all that entails. I do feel that anger does need expressing in a healthy way and that if its not discerningly done in the moment it will be revisited.

I have no doubt that for many the anger becomes fuel for change or becomes a defining emotion to be held. That may have both positives and negatives attached. For my husband it has coloured his perception of his life, become a force to raise funds for Thrombosis UK, a charity that helps educate the medical professions and others about how DVT’s and thrombosis can affect 1 in 1000 people no matter their age or fitness. Yet that too is now exhausted. Anger is exhausting when sustained over periods of time and not brought to balance. Its good to feel angry, yet it is to be expressed in a healthy way, not with harm or violence, as that, potentially, not only harms others but yourself too. To not express it harms our inner self too, in ways that may not be seen, yet felt now and then for no apparent reasoning, simply asking to be felt, heard, acknowledged and eventually accepted.

There is a list of the stages of grief. A list created by humans to formulate a process that through observations many have gone through. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are listed. It’s not a one-size fits all, as emotions are complex and though we may think we are done, something will arise that requires a revisiting to part of a natural process that will, in all likelihood, vary from person to person.

I offer here my own experiences and how subsequent perceptions have given insight into my own grieving process.

Denial was short and transient. I had taken Gavin to his home on the Monday after he had dog sat for the weekend whilst we visited my family and attended the committal of my stillborn nephew. Gavin wanted to go home though he had had the best nights sleep for ages in his childhood room and old bed. For the next few days he didn’t respond to texts and that was not unusual, but come Friday evening my husband felt the need to go round and make sure he was OK. We have a spare key and that was the beginning. Dave phoned a neighbour, and our daughter to come and sit with me. He then phoned to break the news that he had found Gavin dead on his bedroom floor and was now having to deal with emergency services and the Police. That is when denial hits. It can’t be true, yet no way could he or Gavin play that sort of game. To wake the next morning to that thought already expressed here, that Gavin was nolonger in my world was a seeing and feeling that his body was gone. A beginning of acceptance. A ‘gain’ with the pain.

What comes next is simply hurting, a deep ache in tbe heart, a stab in the chest. That pain kept his loss a reality, an undeniable fact. That pain was ever present in all the formalities that had to be done with his passing. Registering his death, nor a committal service could happen until his autopsy. Yet we made arrangements, told who we could, his place of work, banks, family and friends, few though they were. A putting aside our pains to deal with essentials and processes. Waves that ebbed and flowed depending on where we felt we were at or not.

The anger would float on those waves like flotsam, waiting to be beached and taken notice of. That will be my next blog. When? When I have the courage to write.

Waking up on the morning after Gavin died was to wake with the thought that I ‘lived in a world without him’. That was overwhelmingly sad. Tears welled, and nothing could stop that. I came to see that nothing should stop that expression of sadness. That it’s OK to be seen to be grieving. Other members of my family would have to deal with their own emotions their way. I was invited to embrace all that losing someone near and dear would offer. To do otherwise would be to deny what being human in nature really is. Yes, I write this with hindsight and insights gifted through the subsequent years yet even now, almost 5 years on, that initial pain of heart can be as sharp as a blade that pierces the skin. I embrace that, to sob or gently weep is to allow that feeling to have a place, a space to be accepted and loved as part of who I am now. Its OK to feel a sadness and to express that. Its not there to make you feel ‘less than’ its there to show love and kindness to the one who is sad. By allowing my feelings to show, to express that sorrow became a space where others could do what they needed in their moments. In the days and weeks following, whether clearing out his home and possessions. Organising his affairs and a funeral, or dealing with hospital investigations and a coroner there is a putting aside of emotion. Yet always an invitation to return to that in quiet moments. Some can allow and many can not, because it hurts and that is not pleasant to feel. It is to be avoided, perhaps simply to survive one can’t allow that pain to the surface as many other pains will ask to be felt too.