Floating on the tide
Life is like the tide. For much of the time, it’s about ebb and flow. There are peaks and troughs. The usual pattern.
But sometimes there’s a tsunami. And after the big wave has gone, you’re left to cope with the emotional and spiritual wreckage.
STRANGE RELIEF
That’s how life has been over the past 18 months. During that time, as a family we’ve had to face the loss of my father, an uncle, an aunt, a cousin and two of our closest companions – among others we knew and cared about. The list grew long. The grief became great.
I’d known waves of loss before. This was a deluge. A very kind Anglican vicar friend of mine diagnosed what I was going through. ‘It’s called multiple bereavement,’ he said. ‘It’s a recognised traumatic condition.’ Apparently, hospice workers receive counselling for it.
Naming it was such a strange relief. I knew what I was up against. I haven’t discovered any magic formula for dealing with it. I’ve just kind of hobbled along. I found going to Catholic mass a soothing experience, as the service focuses on gentle liturgy and sung psalms. In a mad fit of foraging, I started making crab apple jelly. I found projects like that very therapeutic.
RESIST PRESSURE
When 2011 started, I suddenly felt a lift in my heart. It was probably psychological – with a new year beginning and a sense of hope. But it worked. I still hit those patches where my head would go spinning and I couldn’t complete simple tasks. However, it’s kind of getting better.
Beware. That little phrase can be a curse. We should use it sparingly. There is a great temptation to fix things. Some people expect you to pull out of it in a certain time frame. I learned to resist that pressure of ‘getting better’. I tried to go with the flow of my soul. I tried to get to know myself more.
I’m still in that process. Learning to float on the tide. (Photo: Irish shores, by Clive Price)
