We have a heartfelt blog for you today, from our Co-Founder Christen – reflecting on 10 years without her Mum.
10 years without my Mum feels monumental, but also, like any other day. It would be easy to have had a regular day, go about my work and daily business, but I decided to take a day off – and really think and reflect.
I wanted to write a reflection that could help others, because, despite the heartbreaking hardship of my mother’s death– I have found such a peace, that I never felt possible before she died.
I think I was very lucky in a way, because I loved my Mum, more than I have loved anyone. For me, this made it easier, because I said all I needed to say, and had closure when she died (yes, I even confessed to stealing £20 for penny sweets aged 12).
So, this blog comes from a place of love and peace, but figuring out my grief and coming to acceptance took many years to arrive.
Things that have helped me over the years:
When mum was dying, I wrote a diary, I wish I wrote it more when she was ill, not just as she was dying, as it is full of some gut-wrenching trauma of her last days. However, there are words that was said between us, that have slipped into the fog of my memory. I read these words every year on her anniversary. It is so good to hear her voice, and be taken back, to my last moments with her – sad as they were, there was beauty in there.
Every year, on her anniversary, I let my self “go there”. As a wise woman once said to me “you never ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one, you just learn to live with it”. So, when I “go there” I let myself cry and mourn and really dig deep. I allow myself this, because it is so important for me to remember how much I still love and miss her. If I did this all the time, I don’t think I could do much living. So, once a year, I do. That’s not to say this doesn’t happen at odd occasions, least expected – like when you hear a song, or smell a smell, and you are taken RIGHT back. You can’t neatly control grief, it catches you off guard, but it is important to set some time aside in a planned, positive way.
I write to her – in that same diary, once a year. I tell her all about my past year, and about the amazing new people (and animals) I’ve met who she never got to meet. It’s also really good to read back, because I can assure you those earlier years were angry, and sad, and felt futile. I can see how far I have come now by re-reading them.
I talk about her – to people who knew her, to people who’ve never met her. I want people to know my Mum, I want her memory to live on, and I love the funny little stories and memories I have of her. My nephews never met her, one turned to me once (aged 7) in the middle of playing cops and robbers and just said “it is so sad Grandma Pauline died” right out the blue. Yes Kid – it is sad, but you know her name, and let me tell you a little more about her.
Is it always sad? No – her death, filled me with an enlightenment (dramatic, I know). Her death changed my life, gave me a new sense of purpose, and made me a better human. My heart feels warm when I think of her. She guides me (and lots of others), with the phrase “what would Polly do?”. BRCA+ Chat was formed, out of my memory for my mum, and I get to help lots of people with BRCA, knowing she would have LOVED this. Purpose is SO important, whether it is founding your own charity (dramatic, I know), or giving back, and supporting a charity that helped your loved one. It connects you, and that is something really special. It connects you to your loved one, but also to others, who are going through the same thing, and when we realise we are not alone in our trauma and grief, we really can grow through it.
Today, on her 10-year anniversary, I did all the things that connected me to her. I meditated, watched Miranda (“SUCH FUN” is carved on her gravestone), read a gardening magazine, cooked lentil soup, ate florentines and picked blackberries at her grave.
So, for me – writing, reflecting, remembering, finding purpose and connection – all helped me with my grief.
My mum wrote me a letter before she died (she never gave it to me, I found it on her laptop). Her words had a profound impact on me – but this part will always stick with me “Life experiences change everybody – for better, or for worse, that is not for me to say. As long as the pain is from an awakening and not dwelling in the past on pains and torments”.
An awakening can take years. Years of processing, but it is possible… She could not dictate how I would feel after her death, how I processed it, and the long-term impact it would have on me. That was for Me to decide.
But, I can hand on heart say, none of our lost loved ones would want us to dwell on past pains and torments. Love them, remember them, and take them with you, in your heart and soul, to live a wonderful meaningful life.
Thank you Mumma P – I love and miss you always. xxx
Thank you Christen, I am sure lots of us can relate to this. If you’d like to support Christen’s brothers, they have created a memorial fundraiser for Pauline Click Here.