I want to stop grieving and start living again

DEAR BEL MY HUSBAND died suddenly of a heart attack in January. We would have been married 50 years next year.

It was a massive shock to me and our daughter and son. The first few weeks I was OK and began sorting out the paperwork, cupboards, drawers and so on.

But about two months ago, it suddenly hit me — so much so that I consulted a counsellor, who had been recommended to me. I have seen her twice and found most of her advice helpful.

I have my wonderful children, friends and marvellous sister and brother-in-law, who take me out each Tuesday.

I have a beloved dog — a godsend, as we live near woods and enjoy lovely walks. I drive, and have a full life, but I feel so empty.

I was always fairly independent, but now need all these people so much. I can be fine one minute, and really low the next.

I know there is no quick fix. Even now, seeing this letter makes me feel guilty, because I have so much.

I can fill most days, but I can’t spend too much time in my own home. When I go to my son’s and daughter’s I’m OK.

I have applied to do volunteer work at my granddaughter’s school — oh yes, and started yoga lessons.

What else can I do? I’m lonely. Do you have any more suggestions? With all your experience, Bel, I thought writing to you would help me sort myself out.

CHRISSIE

THIS email is as full of riches as it is of grief, and a part of you certainly knows that, hence feeling ‘guilty’ at writing. But one of the miracles of being human is that it is possible to experience two contradictory emotions at the same time — and thus you feel at once blessed by having so much love and companionship to sustain you, yet simultane - ously devastated and ‘lonely’.

There is no ‘right ’ and ‘wrong’ involved here. Your feelings are natural and understandable — yet you are perceptive to suspect that those suffering agonising loneliness because they have nobody at all to turn to, will look at the details of your life and wish (oh, how wistfully) theirs was like that.

Chrissie, you are doing so much to help yourself through this painful time of transition, so why do you need to ‘sort yourself out’? Y ou’ve been sensible enough to try counselling, opened yourself to the advice — and everything else. including the dog-walking, volunteering and yoga, fills me with admiration.

But you do need to be more patient. There’s a whole story , within this short email, of a woman so used to being practical and getting on with life and being self-sufficient, that when her husband is suddenly snatched away, she gives herself no time to mourn but immediately starts ‘sorting out ’ (that phrase again) paperwork and cupboards.

And then she discovers with a shock something people have experienced and understood for centuries: that grief cannot be ‘sorted out’.

There is no answer to it, and no cure. It must be endured, its slow changes allowed to happen, until the day comes when it is not so quite so agonising as before — although still capable of hurting you afresh in a moment of memory.

Imagine this process as being somewhat like walking through the woods with your lovely dog . Imagine pushing open a gate into the woodland you thought you knew very well, but suddenly finding yourself floundering in thickets of nettles and brambles which tear and sting.

And it’s much, much darker than you expected, and the path narrower until it disappears and you don’t know where you are. What is this place? But your trusty dog is pulling on his lead and leading you forward, step by step, and you have to let him — because you have no map and can’t plan a route and are no longer in charge, so must follow the creature who loves you.

Then at last, you see the trees thinning, and more light hitting the forest floor, allowing blue - bells to grow and then you are at the other side, and your dog licks your hand, telling you that this is a new way home.

So my advice to you is to continue with all the positive ways you are coping with your life — offering others (through this page) a brave, capable example to follow. But also let yourself feel sad and lonely and miss your husband, because such feelings are normal and do not, I repeat, need ‘sorting out’.

Gradually, get used to spending more time at home and perhaps make tiny changes there to give the place a small facelift, such as new cushions or moving furniture.

And as you do all these things, be assured that everything you do — especially walking that dog through the woods — you do also for the sake of the person who is always in your thoughts, willing you onwards.