‘Losing my funny, clever sisterin-law’

Jaquie Brown on cancer, grief - and community

QMy dad died recently and, now I’m back at work, I feel like I’m expected to just ‘‘get on with it’’ and pretend I’m fine. I know life goes on but I don’t feel fine – I feel like I’m never going to be able to get over this loss.

AI’m so sorry for your loss and welcome to the DDC (The Dead Dads Club) a club I made up that, sadly, has lots of members. I lost my own Dad to prostate cancer when I was 26, he was just 58 – I truly know what you are going through. What I didn’t understand then but do now, is that grief isn’t something you get over like a cold. Grief is something that becomes a part of you.

I think of grief like a river running through your entire body. Sometimes the river rages and it fills you completely, other times it’s a gentle trickle of background noise; but it’s always there inside you. The pressure to hide our emotions is very real, I think it’s hard, but especially hard for men to allow themselves to be seen to be vulnerable. But to me that vulnerability is one of the most beautiful qualities a person can possess.

I lost another family member to cancer last week. My funny, clever sister-in-law Michelle lost her 18-month battle with breast cancer. She was just 48. My river of grief has been overflowing since then, I’m fragile and sad. I’m telling you this because it’s important to be real with people about your grief and not hide your feelings or try to ‘‘get on with it’’.

I have been incredibly warmed and comforted by the outpouring of love and support for us recently. Hot meals being delivered, childcare being arranged, texts, emails. I have felt a sense of community that I didn’t know was there. This has all come from me being honest with everyone about how sad I truly feel right now and being okay with it. Not trying to move on or forget the person that you’ve lost, but keeping them alive with you daily as you remember what you loved about them most.

You don’t have to ‘‘get on with it’’. If you can be real with your friends and workmates, I think you’ll be surprised by how much support you receive. The good from the sadness is the support network who come out of the woodwork in a crisis and just want to help, if you’ll let them. Please let them, this is how we build tighter communities and more genuine real friendships.

Cheery uplifting little column this week, isn’t it?! You can’t make sense of loss really, you just make peace with it in your own time, and from experience, I promise you that in time, it will get easier.

I have felt a sense of community that I didn’t know was there.