Chapter 9: Let's talk about grief...

"Grief is not a sign of weakness, or a lack of faith. It is the price we pay for love"

As the weather has changed and I am counting down the days until I fully immerse myself back into the world of work, comes a feeling that this arduous and painful time of my life is coming to a close and the feeling of  disorientated despair is finally starting to subside. I'm getting a little bored if I'm honest, and as much as I feel I have mentally shut the door on teacher-dome, I have found myself needing to challenge my brain a bit more. I've even been a little proactive in starting my tutoring business to give myself that extra little bit of income. Now I'm going to have the time, I may as well use it to do work I actually get paid for. 

The fact that I filled up my 4 hours worth of slots in just under 12 years shows exactly what a dire state the SEND world is actually in. Are we really in a societal position where parents are frantically snapping up tutors to ensure that their children can continue to access their education? I don't remember anyone in my suburban primary school or rural secondary who had a tutor outside of school when I was a child. We came home from school, watched CBBC and enjoyed simply being kids. My mum did decide she wanted to teach my best friend to sing (naturally very beautiful voice). However, the pay off was that she swapped with her mum, who just happened to be my French teacher, for extra French lessons for me. Consequently, she still refuses to sing and I still can't get my head around French verbs!

This week also marks the fifth anniversary of my Dad's sudden death. Grief is a funny old bugger! I have been fortunate enough not to feel 'real' grief until I was in my mid-thirties. This is not something I thought I would say until I felt it. Obviously, death is a part of life, and you are aware of people dying and 'being sad' as life goes on. But it does not compare to losing that close someone in your life. That person who has formed part of who you are, propped you up when you fell, understood the quirks of you and generally, was just one of 'your people'. The pain is real! Physical, emotional, damaging pain. It moves in waves, manipulating you into thinking you're ok and then smacking you down again when you least expect it. Grief also takes many forms depending on who or what you are mourning. And to add insult to injury, it never fucks off! 

It's been a pretty shitty few years to be honest. Grief has reared it's butt-ugly head for me and a number of people I love in so many different forms. Obviously, I have lost my Dad, but I have friends and family who have lost close grandparents, partners, siblings and even children. Each of them torn apart and still suffering the after effects of that person simply not being there. It tears you up, throws you away and makes you confront things about yourself you never wanted to accept.

To be honest, I feel a bit embarrassed to say that I have felt grief for my career, but I have! I miss it! Not how it is now, but how it used to be. Those wonderful years that forged me, developed my knowledge, confidence, capabilities, compassion etc etc that made me the professional I was. That have helped formed who I am in terms of a human being! That role that became my life and has been my life for half of my life! I also miss the people who have been my pillars along the way. Not seeing the people you value who are there everyday is devastating. Yes you can meet up to breakfast, but it's not the same. All of a sudden, it all isn't there any more; it is gone! And as I have documented previously, there is that little point of me that wishes it was still there and wants to rely on it for comfort and security.

Overcoming grief is not a thing! It's not about getting over a pivotal figure in your life (be that a person of profession), it is learning to live without them. There will always be that time in your life when the person you need the most is there! I am not a grief expert, but lived experience definitely goes a long way. For those who are suffering grief, here is what I have found has helped me.

1. Take your time - such a cliché I know, but honestly. Our brains are s a steaming factory of chemicals designed to support our regulation and reaction. You need to let it do what it's doing! Manufacturing takes time!

2. Feel (I'm such a ridiculous advocate for allowing oneself to feel!) - So many people try to bottle up their feelings and perceive strength in stoicism. Strength is in feeling! Feelings are hard and make us uncomfortable. Pushing them to the back of our minds doesn't mean they go away, they just become a bug pile! At some point it's going to way too heavy and break. I've seen this so many times and the results can often be catastrophic. Stuff what you've got to do right there and then, if the grief wave hits, for God's sake, ride it!

3. Get closure - I feel we were cheated of this in terms of my Dad. The pandemic meant that we could not say a physical goodbye. Our mum was the only one allowed to go and do that whilst my sister, brother in law and myself sat in a windowless room waiting! We were not allowed to visit him in the chapel of rest and were only allowed thirty at his funeral. The closure we got, was due to our own volition and I hope we did him proud. In terms of teaching, I have moved with the mood! I am doing what I need to do when I need to do them. 

4. Don't deny their existence - "Be the things you loved the most about the people who are gone". This quote has stuck with me. I will continue to #bemoresteve (those who knew my dad will know why this is so pivotal!), but I will also continue to be 'Mrs Proctor'. I did actually quite like her! The skills and personal traits I have learnt from her which continue to form a better version of me will never be forgotten. They have made me into the person I am now and is responsible for some of my most favoured personality traits. I will never lose her, just like I will never lose my Dad. 

We are big fans of a sunflower in our family. The years spent driving through France in 'snuffly season' always made my dad so happy. The bright yellow of the Tourne-au-sol seemed to fill him with a happiness and contentment that we only saw at this time of the year. Maybe it was because the bright yellow reminded him of his beloved Oxford United?  Maybe it was because he held such high value in that time as being our 'family thing'? To be honest, it was probably because he just liked being on holiday! But that beautiful, glorious, cheerful sunflower has continued to remind me of my dad ever since and always will.  

The sheer nature of the sunflower to chase the light is also such a beautiful metaphor for how we should be living our lives - the French literally call it a 'turns to the sun'. I have used it because of this reason, as the logo for my wee little tutoring business. To remind me to not lose sight of being more him, and being more Mrs Proctor. But also as a reminder that life is better in the light. Grief is dark. It's covers us in a darkness that stops us being able to see properly. If we can chase the light, we should. You never know, we may just blossom and bloom into something just as beautiful 🌻