There are many online resources that explain grief, attempting to define it, categorise it or split it into stages. But nothing, absolutely nothing can prepare you for the force with which grief can hit you.
If it is difficult for us, it can be equally unbearable for our friends or family who feel helpless, guilty and desperate to ease our pain. The British nature is to adopt a stiff upper lip, to keep calm and carry on, but in times of grief that advice is best set aside. If you know someone experiencing bereavement, try to overcome your discomfort and allow that person to discuss their departed. It often helps to be allowed to #saytheirname.
It takes time, time heals - we hear. I'm not yet sure grief ever 'heals' or leaves you, but perhaps the way you grieve changes over time.
We find our own ways to cope. But that really is the secret. It is our own way to find. Nobody else can make us better or decide for us when the time for grieving is over.
And so, I would like to dedicate today’s cycle to the memory of a beautiful little soul Conor and his very brave mother Imogen.
Imogen saw details of our challenge on twitter and not only made a donation but took time to reach out and send a personal message which I hope she doesn’t mind me sharing with you.
“I came across your cycle on Twitter. Last year I buried my baby son. I know what it is like to experience a life changing bereavement. It sucks! Well done for being so proactive with your grief. Good luck and I'll be thinking of Emma when I see daisies. I think of my son when I see stars.”
Whilst I understand loss only too well, I can’t begin to imagine the devastation of losing a son or daughter and am inspired by Imogen’s decision to turn to writing a blog and baking.
Imogen would like us to share her blog with anyone who needs to know they are not alone. So, please take a few moments to visit www.cakesforconor.com and share with others.
Imogen, thank you so much for getting in touch. The stars in Croatia were beautiful last night.