Clunky!

A return to writing and a reflection on grief!

In one of his stand-up shows Peter Kay observed the way that children lose all their school-based skills over the summer holidays. According to Peter Kay, six weeks of playing outside, hours on the PlayStation and no formal schoolwork leaves many kids declaring “I can’t write” as they sit down to their first lesson. As an ex-primary school teacher, I’ve witnessed this phenomenon firsthand. Kids who could do complex mental maths problems were suddenly unable to write down a date and title.

Today feels like the first day of term for me.

It’s much longer than six weeks since my last blog, I’m on a new PC (my Mac died and yes, the transition back to Windows has been a challenge) and everything feels a little clunky. It wasn’t my intention to have a break like this, but life decided otherwise.

My last series of blogs walked us through the Gospel of Mark and the final scheduled post was on Easter Sunday. The day before, we went to visit my parents and Mum seemed a bit snuffly. One Covid test later and, despite protecting her throughout the height of the pandemic, two lines appeared on Mum’s test. By 11pm I was back at their house and Mum was admitted to the Hallamshire Hospital. There’s a very long version of this story that involves prolonged stays in hospital, numerous care teams, 999 calls and three anxious siblings trying to organise and provide the right support for their aging (and fiercely independent) parents. The short version is that Mum sadly passed away on Thursday 30th June 2022. With all Mum’s long-term health concerns, it may seem strange to onlookers that we were shocked, but Mum always rallied. As the palliative care nurse mentioned her “fighting spirit” we thought Mum would defy the odds…again!

Sadly, it wasn’t to be.

Within the past year we have lost Mum and the Dad we knew is disappearing in slow motion.

Grief seems to be the thread running through 2022.

Last week I was ready to blog again, it was time to get writing.

Then, on Thursday 8th of September it was announced that her majesty the Queen had passed away. Like many of you reading this, my raw barely three-month-old grief came rushing to the surface. My mind flashed back to the three of us psyching ourselves up for Mum’s funeral and working out that we just had to get through about five or six hours of being with people and then we would be able to give in to the grief. Watching the pain on the faces of the Royal Family I cannot imagine how much resilience it takes to carry that grief in the glare of the public eye.

I said today’s blog was clunky, a mish-mash of thoughts and feelings, but I’m discovering grief is like that!

It’s acknowledging that there were moments of frustration with the person you lost that you’ll never be able to undo or resolve.

It’s picking up your phone to text Mum on results day to let her know her grandson made it to his dream university and then realising there’s no one at the other end of the message.

It’s watching your first series of Bake Off without a running commentary of who she likes and dislikes this year.

It’s watching Dad unsure what the world is like now his companion of 59 years is gone.

And, using the exact words I’ve messaged my siblings on many occasions over the past few months, it’s all a bit rubbish.

For now, that’s where I’m at, and having spent the last few months writing Bible Studies based around the psalms, I am confident that’s an okay place to be. Our joy is in the Lord, but that doesn’t mean he can’t handle our grief and sadness as we mourn. That doesn’t mean that I should wait to write again when I feel “a bit more sorted”. I delayed posting as I wondered whether a grief story would be a bit of a depressing way to start writing again, but I know there are many walking the same path as me. They’re sandwiched between school runs and Uni visits and the reality that time with their own parents is drawing to a close. I suppose writing this is my way of acknowledging that I see those who are navigating the same challenging phase of life as me.

Over the coming months I’ll be sharing thoughts from the psalms. For now, I’ll leave you with my Mum’s favourite words of Scripture that I was privileged to share with her before she passed away.

Psalm 23 (NLT)

A psalm of David.

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. 2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. 3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honour to his name. 4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. 5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honour me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings. 6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.

Kay Moorby