Sometimes, our greatest loss can be one of life’s biggest lessons, if we allow it…
When my mother passed away from cancer in 2008, I was 32 years of age, the mother of three little boys and a wife. I was mentally immature and oh so reliant; still very much in need of a mother figure and lacking in confidence, both as a mother and a woman. To lose the one person who kept me in line, who firmly guided me through the murky waters of being a young woman not only devastated me, but emptied my entire being. The best way I can describe it is that I became a shell. My soul, my morals, my beliefs, my confidence, my faith in the universe and my power was gone. For some time I literally woke only to fumble through the day, relieved to go to sleep each night.
Eventually, a turning point forced me to find ways to re-build. It took courage and time…lots of time. Looking back, now at the age of 40, I remember this life changing process as though I literally plucked parts of who I was as they floated aimlessly above in the air and instilled them firmly in my soul – I rejected some, and added new and improved versions of what would become my whole self.
When you are raw from grief, you are suddenly a sponge open to anything that just might make you feel hope or strength. You take what matters to you seriously and quickly deny what doesn’t. You have an opportunity to shape who you are into the best version by taking notice of the lessons that the past experience might have taught you. You have no time for falseness, you only trust what you can see and believe, you remain an open book for others as you have learned the ultimate lesson that life is short and can be cut off at any given time, therefore there really is no room for bullshit. You realise that it is time to embark on those dreams you have had for a while, you chase and catch them. Then you dream some more. You love fiercely. Once you feel safe enough to do so. And you are devoted to those who you love. You stand back, often, and congratulate yourself on the person you have become and you make a promise to yourself that you will never stop learning and improving. Life is way too precious to be complacent.
An interesting part of re-building after grief is the reaction from those around you. Some will remain in your life and some will run. People will literally tell you that you have changed and that they much preferred the ‘old’ you (assuming that they are doing you a favour by telling you this). Some will celebrate who you have become, appreciating the fight it took to become ‘her’. You might find yourself apologising for being different. You never have to apologise.
If you are in the trenches of grief, hang in there, you will come out alive. Give it time. Be kind to yourself. Take it nice and slow. Honour yourself and what you have been through and truly look forward to the day that you reach the point that you can stand tall, with confidence and be absolutely in love with who you are. Pay attention to the lessons around you. Take what you need, let go of what you don’t. You will get there. Have faith.
This guest post is by Leigh Van Der Horst, author of Without My Mum.
