Mind The Gap

That uneasy era between death and funeral.

The weeks between someone dying and their funeral demand from us mourners all the emotions within human range, and it’s disorienting.

Do I wish this time away with the hope of arriving at ‘F-Day’ as quickly as possible, or do I pray for the days to slow down to allow my emotional state a longer run-up to an event no one wants VIP seats for?

The VIP, front row seats at a funeral, where you’re cocooned by the sounds of tissues being removed from plastic pouches, the awkward shuffle of feet wrapped in ‘best’ black shoes, and fingers rustling a folded A4 order of service.

A room of people laden with loss, quietly contemplating their own mortality, tear-filled eyes not wanting to acknowledge the images of the person in the room, in a box. It’s a lot.

The funeral is next week, and I know that time will now speed up disproportionately. I’ve definitely taken part in some textbook grief management practices: thrown myself into work, kept my mind occupied, moved conversations swiftly on from death to a drift of idle chat, told the dog 25,000 times how much I love him.

There’s a sense of guilt at laughing, a self-berating for crying, and the requirement of a big fat stiff upper lip, for when sh*ts got to get done.

I want to talk about the person I’ve lost, but it’s got to be on my terms, when I want to share. Some days I’m able to talk openly; other days, I’m so undone by loss that I’m only just about able to order a coffee.

There is no wrong, right, or best way to process grief. It’s a classic case of horses for courses, and whilst I understand many therapies and practices can help - it’s so incredibly personal it’s grievers’ choice.

We plan to celebrate Dad, he wouldn’t want it any other way. We will play his favorite music, we’ll share his stories, retell his jokes, and hold each other tight. But right now I’m dreading it, this ‘holding area’ of time might be disorientating, but it’s also distracting, and right now distraction is my friend.