Several years ago, I moved to a beautiful English village. Like many villages, it had a character. I'll call him Don.
Don was in his seventies and living with Alzheimer's. Although he no longer lived in the village, he visited most days, stopping anyone he met for conversations that rarely made sense. He was well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, unkempt, and could be an intimidating presence. If he felt ignored or frustrated, his illness sometimes made him shout, bluster and occasionally become physical. Most villagers understood this wasn't really Don. They met him with kindness and knew he could be gently redirected by telling him his brothers were waiting further down the road.
One hot summer afternoon, I came home to find Don sitting comfortably in the dark on a chair in our kitchen. To this day, I have no idea how he'd got in.
I tried everything to persuade him to leave. Reasoning, cajoling, pleading... nothing worked. Not even redirection! The more I tried, the more agitated he became, and I realised forcing the issue could make the situation far worse.
Eventually I accepted there was only one option. I opened all the doors, carried on with my day and simply worked around him. I wasn’t ignoring him, I was very aware of his presence. I was simply accepting that, for now, he was there. About twenty minutes later, Don stood up and quietly walked out.
That has become my metaphor for grief.
Grief arrives unexpectedly and uninvited. Somehow it gets in when it shouldn't be able to. Sometimes it startles me; sometimes it feels overwhelming or even intimidating. I don't welcome its presence, but I've learned that fighting it only makes things harder.
Instead, I acknowledge it. I make space for it. I carry on as best I can, working around it until it's ready to leave.
And it always does.
Until the next visit.
Don died a few years ago. I still think about him sometimes with a mixture of sadness, relief and gratitude. Without ever knowing it, he gave me a way to understand one of the hardest experiences of my life.
If you're carrying grief today, perhaps it's okay not to force it out. Sometimes the kindest thing we can do is acknowledge that it's here, trust that it won't stay forever, and gently carry on until it's ready to leave.
