On this day, some years ago, my mother died. I don’t have words to describe the cocktail of pain and emotions that have poured through my soul since then; grief broke me into tiny little pieces.
On some days, I feel like I am over it; on some other days, I sob and shake and struggle to breathe. Sometimes, I can push it away all day; at other times, I allow it to rush back in the dead of the night.
Through it all, I am grateful for the emotional generosity of the people who have listened to me when I could not stop talking about my mother’s life and death. The ones who have given me time to hear my stories without shutting me up with “move on” and the other common phrases people tell you when they want you to stop talking about your grief.
In a way, their listening helped me process my loss and find some clarity.
Now, I also take some time out to listen to people going through grief and need someone to talk to. It doesn’t matter if they lost their loved one last week, last month, last year or even twenty years ago. If they want to talk, I listen as they share their memories, joys, regrets and pains.
I listen as they talk about things that may be too difficult to discuss with other people in their lives. I listen as they unburden and try to find healing – no judgements, prejudices, preaching, just life-giving soul-to-soul conversations.
I am not a therapist, and I am not a life coach; I am not a certified grief counsellor; I am just another soul, like you, trying to make sense of life and of death.
