Filling the cracks with gold
My Kintsugi Go-bag for grief tending
Putting myself back together
This is not the first time I have put myself back together again. Like many others, I have experienced various manifestations of loss and grief. It’s life right!
The grief of losing the person I was after being diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome.
The grief of relationship breakdowns, of my divorce, grief for the life I thought I would have disintegrating.
The grief of losing my beloved grandmother. The loss of my furry sister who grew up with me, yes I mean my cat not an actual furry sister.
My ongoing low level grief for our world.
My subsequent recovery from all of these life events and the many (and I mean many) lifestyle changes they led to prepared me for what lay ahead when my mum was diagnosed with an inoperable tumour. Her third cancer and second in two years. Life can be cruel.
“Learning we can be with our grief, holding it softly and warmly, is the first task in our apprenticeship.”
Anticipatory Grief
I had never heard of anticipatory grief and it would have been so helpful to me if I had. I was reading about caring for the dying and there was a chapter on anticipatory grief, a true lightbulb moment - why had I never heard of that before? It helped me make sense of what I was feeling, why I dissolved into tears when driving, at the store and had a deep feeling of utter despair deep in my body. The day of mum’s terminal diagnosis was the day my grief began. I had entered anticipatory grief.
Anticipatory grief is exhausting. Mentally and physically. For years I ran the gamut of emotions, the see-saw of love and loss time and time again. Mum was given months, at best a year to live. She was living with cancer for 15 months and was dying from cancer for the last three months of her life. Subtle changes. Only on reflection did I come to appreciate this.
At the end we were both barely existing, caring takes a huge toll on all those who love the person who is dying.
When you are given a rough timeline it’s tough to function. Doctors who give a timeline do their best but they cannot account for the human spirit and if you are given a timeline I would suggest trying to hold it gently.
I took mum’s anticipated exit from this life too literally and pressed pause on most of my life to be there, with and for mum. It was a huge privilege don’t get me wrong but I also used up a lot of energy in the first six months when she was actually doing just fine (all things are relative). As her heath deteriorated so did mine, I became hyper-vigilant, waiting, watching, managing pain, bringing love and joy as much as possible. That was my job, bring the fun, bring the joy…well one of my jobs.
It is very much a marathon and not a sprint. I thought I was doing a good job but truth is I gave too much and put my self care on the back burner, out of necessity as I was the sole carer. The buck stopped with me.
If I didn’t have the learnings from the different life curve balls I had already navigated I would have collapsed under the weight of it all.
For context mum stayed at home and was as independent as she could be until her last days. What can I say, I come from a lineage of very strong women.
Women as carers
Many women step into the role of carer, as a society it is still expected, regardless of whether that is the choice we would make or not. I know many men and children also do but overwhelmingly it is still women who take on the role.
Over 8 million people in the UK are unpaid carers. Often the need to be a carer happens when women continue to support their own families and also start to enter peri-menopause or menopause which on its own is a clusterf**k of challenges.
This was me. Not the children part but the menopause part. Menopause can be debilitating for many women and it was for me. Brain fog, fatigue, anxiety, depression, hot, cold, headaches, itchy skin, painful joints…oh yeah the list goes on. Coupled with grief and caring it was hard, really hard. I was a mess.
Research from carers UK in 2020 revealed that 72% of carers suffered difficulties with mental health and 61% with physical health. I totally understand this. Caring has broken me in many ways and I genuinely have spent the last 11 months filling the cracks, remaking myself.
I want to share how I managed to not completely breakdown. Reset my self care rituals as I cared for mum.
Kintsugi
I’ve called in my kintsugi go-bag. Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer normally gold. As a life philosophy its about allowing the cracks to be seen and making them a beautiful part of the the history of the object, not shying away from the broken pieces but making them whole again in a different way.
I also often said I’m Humpty Dumpty who fell off the wall and I’m putting all the pieces back together but kintsuigi feel truer to me these days as the cracks are visible.
If you know me you know I am different, forever changed and that’s ok. I am working on wholeness in a new way. Visible cracks.
I am sharing my go bag tools because it’s hard to know where to start.
If you don’t have a self care ritual, if you don’t enjoy researching stuff, perhaps you are uncomfortable talking to anyone about what you have experienced and have never asked for help.
As always doing nothing is also a great strategy, this is not designed to overwhelm you for doing nothing, I have done heaps of nothing. Grief is very personal and individual. There may be one thing on this list which helps, I hope it does.
My Kintsuigi go-bag whilst caring for mum
This is my go-bag whilst caring for mum. A go bag is a bag that basically has all your essentials in it were your house to catch fire, be hit by an earthquake or flood. You grab it and go. This is what is in mine and I take it everywhere with me.
Most of my go-bag tools are freely available and have minimal financial burden. There are a range of free resources in the UK (I am not entirely sure of other countries) and you can find a lot on YouTube around other areas listed below.
Nature, Gratitude, Plants, Tears, Hugs, Writing and Laughter - Free Medicine
All of these are great for reducing cortisol and increasing oxytocin and serotonin:
I laughed with mum as much as I could and focused on finding joy and gratitude at every opportunity. We watched a lot of comedy, especially Billy Connolly;
I walked in nature, even just around the back of mum’s house or into the garden;
I created a veggie patch (in grow bags) and spent as much time as I could in mum’s small garden - very healing - I grew carrots, kale, beetroot and it made mum super happy too, she was responsible for watering when she was well enough to do so;
I found joy in everyday tasks - hanging out laundry, vacuuming, cooking, washing mum’s hair became a really hilarious activity for us both (often one where we were both drenched);
I cried and cried and cried and cried (I’m pretty emotional so my mum used to tell me);
I hugged mum and anyone who would let me
Writing
I created a grief journal where I could spill out how I was feeling. It helped me get it out of my head. The writing wasn’t pretty it was raw. One day I will burn it. That was always the intention.
I worked a lot on guilt in that journal. I felt guilty all the time. Valorie Burton writes about guilt and talks of the five thought patterns of guilt, one being “I didn’t do enough.” I worked on this a lot with my therapist, carers guilt.
I wrote terrible poetry typically at 4am after I had given mum her morphine or I was laying awake to make sure she was still breathing. You are always listening. The poetry was dark and very cathartic. It is unlikely I will ever share it but it helped me. I wrote it in notes on my phone.
Talk Therapy - talk, it helps, truly
I withdrew a lot from life as it was simply too hard. I wanted to be with mum and I also wanted to live. For the first few years it was lovely to hear what everyone was up to and then it just became too hard as my life was so different and my priorities also involved the daily carer routine. It was a lonely time. Friends struggled to relate, I get it, I would have struggled too if I was on the other side.
I spoke to friends, I had a small group of friends I could be my raw messy self with
I have an amazing therapist at Maggie’s cancer centre who was and is a life saver
Asking for help
I leaned on my mum’s friends who visited her regularly and when I had to work they made sure someone was checking in on her;
I was also supported by some lovely hospice staff. Although mum wasn’t in a hospice at any point, they were a wonderful ear, they helped me problem solve her medication needs and pain management and did a few house calls which they didn’t need to do;
I would often speak to her GP about these things too but found hospice staff had a deeper understanding as palliative care is their speciality;
Mum eventually got a few carers who were amazing. So lovely and they loved mum. Having them there daily lifted the pressure from me as I knew she was being check on in the morning and at lunch which allowed me to do some work or go for a walk. She refused for a long time incase you are wondering why we didn’t do it sooner. I respected her wishes. Mum was very stubborn!
Managing Overwhelm
Learning compassion for myself. That it is ok to do nothing (this is still a work in progress);
I cut back work obligations to a bare minimum, enough to pay my bills to reduce overwhelm;
I meditated every day, a practice I have had for over a decade, I would have lost my shit without my practice;
When sleep evaded me I practiced yoga nidra to help me get deep rest (lots of free resources on YouTube);
I went for acupuncture (something that helped me recovery from chronic fatigue);
I focused on regulating my nervous system through breathing and mindfulness (I teach breathing so that was helpful);
Menopause - Hormone Replacement Therapy
I started hormone replacement therapy which was a game changer in helping me look after myself so I could look after my mum
It can be hard to distinguish between grief, burnout and menopause there are lots of similarities. I found myself with a trifecta - lucky me!
As I have mentioned I was in peri-menopause whilst becoming a caregiver which over the years of caring turned into full menopause. In and of itself a massive change for every woman.
In short I decided I needed hormone replacement therapy as my symptoms were unbearable. Seek out medical advice from a compassionate and understand GP. When I called my practice I asked to speak to a doctor who was sympathetic to and understood menopause. I was so lucky to find a truly divine doctor who has worked with me to optimise my hormones since that day.
My Kintsugi go-bag whilst grieving
Since mum died I have been upgrading my Kintsugi Go Bag. I continued all of the above (with the exception of gardening as I no longer have one but I do have lots of plants).
These are many of the ways I have been tending my grief, to heal:
Do Nothing
The first few months after mum died I was barely functioning. I rested a lot, I slept, I stayed in bed, I played video games, I watched terrible TV.
I gave myself permission to do the bare minimum.
Rituals
Mum’s traditional funeral was more for everyone else than for me. I found it did not bring me peace or comfort. I needed different rituals.
A wonderful friend organised a Tibetan Buddhist ceremony for me a few days after mum died. It is called Surchöd should you want to learn more. I found this very healing and something you may want to consider if you do not identify with traditional religious ceremonies.
For the next 49 days I lit a candle each morning next to a photo of mum and practiced my own ritual in support of both of us. It helped.
I restarted my gratitude practice with my friend in Ireland on WhatsApp. Focusing on what is good in your day has significant health benefits.
I am also a super nerd so for me the ritual of taking a few courses over the summer helped me with healthy compartmentalisation.
Tending to my own health
I was referred to a wonderful clinical hypnotherapist and she really helped with my guilt (it is a thing most carers experience, did I do enough, could I have done more…) and my debilitating intrusive thoughts. This really really helped;
I learned TRE - tension and trauma release exercises which have been a game change for my nervous system regulation and manage the trauma;
With the support of my utterly amazing GP I have added testosterone to my HRT mix and feel like I am finally finding balance;
I work with an energy healer;
I’ve been taking Taiko drumming classes, a short eight week course. I felt a lot of anger was stuck and this is not only fun but allows me to yell and find my voice again in a health way (you can also scream into a pillow);
Caring for my plants - seriously helpful;
Slowly starting to see friends again. I have taken this slowly as I simply wasn’t ready to be fully back in the world.
Sharing with other women - Circles
When mum died I was doing a training on holding circles for women, with Sister Stories. It was a perfect time to be doing this and I found being able to show up off camera and be held by other women was healing and nurturing.
I will be sharing some circles for others to attend soon but you will find many online which are beautiful spaces to share without judgement or expectation to resolve anything. Simply to be witnessed is healing.
I know it’s a lot.
I have viewed grief as an active process.
I took great solace in the writing of Francis Weller who wrote:
“Grief work is not passive. It implies an ongoing practice of deepening, attending and listening. It is an act of devotion, rooted in love and compassion.”,
I have added all of these elements incrementally. The TRE and drumming have came 11 months since losing mum. You don’t need to do any of these. I am simply sharing my experience and what worked for me.
We are all different. You will grieve in a way that is appropriate for you.
Ways to support someone who is grieving.
You will find some ideas in a previous post I wrote on this called the long goodbye and there are a few things I would add.
People tend to gather for the funeral of the loved person and then scatter to the four winds. We have lost our sense of connection and community.
If you are wondering how to support someone after they have lost someone, I would suggest:
putting something in your schedule to remember to reach out.
a weekly message to say thinking of you,
a monthly coffee,
a monthly voice note.
drop by
make plans and invite them
I also love these three questions from Zoe Clark-Coates from Beyond Goodbye that you can keep in your pocket for the long period after a person has lost their person. You can use them for your conversations
What was your most difficult moment to navigate this week?
Did you find joy in anything this week?
Was there anything you needed this week that I could have helped you with?
I now understand why we wore black
Before my mum died and I moved from anticipatory grief to grief (they are pretty much the same only grief feels like a deeper hole), I never understood why people wore black.
How silly was I.
I wished I could have worn black and for people to have recognised this as my way of sharing with the world that I am grieving. To have the implicit understanding of why I crying for no reason, my blank stare, my lack of smile.
I have considered creating little bracelets or a badge which read I am grieving because geez we need the space and support.
Society today moves at such a rapid rate that we do not allow ourselves to tend to our grief, we jump back into life as it was but life is not the same and will never be the same, it is different. We need to slow down, tend to our hearts. We need to rest.
So perhaps create your own version of wearing black to help you share with those you want to know that you are grieving and would love some gentleness and maybe a hug.
In closing
I have crossed an invisible threshold, one I feel you only cross when someone you love is gone. I am different and truly still figuring out who I am now.
I probably think about death and dying a lot more as I face my own mortality, something I gave passing thought to before losing mum. I am pretty sure I am not alone in this.
As I approach the one year anniversary of mum’s passing I feel better than I did 4 weeks ago and better than the 4 weeks before that. Grief is not linear, I go up and down but by taking these steps, creating my go bag I feel I am putting down some solid foundations for whatever comes next. I still spend days under the duvet. And that is perfectly ok.
My only job during this initial year, grieving, putting myself back together is simply to get through it. In whatever way works for me.
That’s it.
I hope this has helped you or you share it with someone you think it would benefit.
With love