Walking with Grief

Grief is a complex animal and one which has many layers. The depth of the layers only become apparent over time but not in any orderly way.

I knew when my mother died five years ago in the early hours of May 31st  that I just had to put my grief aside as my father, who was eighty-nine needed me. This year, as Mother’s anniversary has been approaching, I have been very aware of the ‘unresolved grief ~if that’s the term, bubbling up and asking to be heard.

Today, I went to lovely Mount Congreve Garden, that haven of peace, and strolled wherever instinct drew me. It was a surreal experience as vivid flashes of that last day sitting by Mother’s hospital bed as she was in a deep, deep sleep mingled with the breathtaking beauty of Mount Congreve.

Although I felt that I had walked through Mother’s passing, when I came to write about it this evening and select photographs, the computer stubbornly refused to let me run ahead of myself and save the photographs that seemed to depict the turning point.

I certainly don’t believe that the computer has some special powers but I am convinced that grief needs, and indeed demands,  to be heard but has to be taken at its own pace.

So here are the images that wanted to be seen today in the paradise that is Mount Congreve:


Author: socialbridge

I am a sociologist and writer from Ireland. I have worked as a social researcher for 30 years and have had a lifelong passion for writing. My main research interests relate to health care and I love to write both non-fiction and poetry.

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