I have been privileged to be be able to support and care for people who are going through grief. I’ve seen people come and go.
I’ve seen elderly couples who have been together for 60+ years say goodbye to each other, I’ve seen sudden tragic loss of people who weren’t ready to go and the pain of those that are left behind. But I’ve always had to carry on despite what’s just happened and move on to look after the next person. You have to try not to let that get in the way of the next person you speak to and what they need from you as they’re just as precious to those around them as the person you’d previously cared for was.
Ive never really dwelled to much on the aftermath of all of that although from time to time I find myself thinking about the people and scenarios that have stuck in my mind. Some of those people will never leave me. They’re the ones that when I finished for the day I went home and cried myself to sleep with. And in those moments I was always so thankful when that red phone rang that it wasn’t me or my family in that position.
However in January I found myself involved in the situation I’ve always dreaded. My sister rang me to tell me my uncle had suffered a heart attack. I could tell by her tone it wasn’t good. My stomach flipped and I made my way to be with my family. I was now a family member on the other side of it all.
When I got to the hospital everyone was there in the room. I don’t recall how long we were all there hugging each other not really speaking all a little shocked by what was going on. My cousin told me about how they were there when it happened, how the ambulance control had talked through what to do for him. I just kept thinking how brave she was. The doctors came out and spoke to my auntie and gave her an update. We left them there with him and waited for news.
It was a very long week. Constantly wanting updates and to check on how everyone was but wanting to give them space and privacy too. He had a lot of tests and a few more treatments and they tried to wake him up a few times too however he didn’t seem to like that very much so they kept him sedated. Just over a week after it happened we were told some more devastating news that we couldn’t quite believe.
My uncle and I were due to start our new ventures on the same day, something we’d mentioned over Christmas when we’d been all together last. On the 14th January as I was waking up to start my new job I checked my phone and I woke up to a message Id been prepared for the night before but still didn’t want to see. He was 53.
I’ve always been acutely aware that life can change in a fraction of a second. Something you do or say or something happens that you have no control over can change everything forever for the good or the bad. This has made me even more aware of it. I’m going to be more prone to telling people I love that I love them and more prone to not tolerating fools. Life is to short to waste on things and people that don’t bring joy.
I am so unbelievably proud of my Auntie and my cousins. They have been so brave and so strong. My auntie and uncle were best friends and loved each other a lot, if I ever get even a fraction of what they shared for those years together I’ll consider myself to be a very lucky woman.
Seeing people you love in pain and being able to do nothing for me is heartbreaking.
I just want to fix it.
I’m a fixer.
That’s my personality.
I like fixing things.
I want to do something to fix it.
But I can’t fix this.
What I can do however is raise money for the memorial that was set up after the funeral. To do this ill be doing a charity skydive on the 24th August!! It’s something I’ve always wanted to do and I might as well do it now. No time like the present eh?
So if you want to donate (and you know you do) here is the just giving page all the money will go to CTCCU at Wythenshawe.
To all those wonderful staff who took such good care of not only my uncle but my auntie and cousins too in the week they were there thank you. These marvellous people do this day in day out.
To all you wonderful people thank you in advance for any donation you give.
Love you all millions.
(Except you, you’re a bit of an arse)