The foreverness of grief and a passion for fairness

I come from large family.  Mum and dad had six kids, I am the youngest.  There are 16 grandchildren and 10 great grandchildren with another on the way.  We all like eachother, we don’t fight, there has never been a family rift.  We are all funny, smart and good at our chosen paths.  We are very lucky really.

But we have had an extraordinary amount of grief.  My brother Jamie died tragically as a small child when I was a baby, then older aunts and uncles.  Then 10 years ago, my grandmother, my dad and my aunt.  Literally wiping out his family.  And this time last year, my gorgeous sister Jo.

Logically we all know, that like birth, death is a part of life.  The loss of treasured relationships of any kind are day to day occurrences. 

But it is the only emotion or feeling that stays with you forever.  Happiness, joy, sadness, relief, pain, all come and go… but grief doesn’t.

It sits heavy just under the surface and can boil over at any time.  You can be feeling pretty good then it hits you; either in random crying in public places (writing blogs in a café, walking around the park, picking up the groceries) or bursts of irrational rage (shouting at the young kid who stole your car park, frenzied huffing in the office, a teenage not emptying the dishwasher after being asked for the 100th time).

I wonder what is its purpose?  If grief sits there all the time, it must serve a purpose? 

I think for me, my grief has bought a passion for fairness.  When you feel like things are unfair, you work hard to make things equal.  Gender equality, empathy for the neurological diverse, a passion that voices are heard, and appropriate action taken.

On Saturday, the mighty Tigers play in the AFL Grand Final and it’s my sister Jo’s first anniversary.  Two years ago, we watched the Tiges win the prelim together and then she went onto the 2017 GF with one of her sons, Robert.    

I will leave you with the wise words of George Harrison and hope that this weekend there will be lightness, laughter and sun.

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s all right

PS. The image is a @beckfeinter_illustrations commissioned by my beautiful Fernon nieces and nephews to celebrate the three sisters – Me, Jo & Paula.

 

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