Sarah's Story - Just say thank you

Trigger warning: This story mentions death and grief. Please proceed with caution.

Here I am, 28 years old, just been told that my mother only has hours to live. My body cramped up with shock, running around my house trying to get my head around the call I had just answered. I sit and hold her hand, telling her in my head that it’s okay to go. I will miss her dearly, but I know she will always look over me, guide me, and still show me motherly love. Just because a loved one passes over to the spirit world doesn’t mean they’re gone; they’ve just left their physical body. Did it ease the pain of grief? Most definitely not!

As the weeks went by, I didn’t really get a chance to grieve due to sorting out the funeral, the house, bills, etc. Once all this was done, it hit me like a bus. I’d lost my best friend. I struggled to walk past the house I grew up in. All I could think of was how grateful I was for the memories I had made there (even the bad ones, as they taught me things). I was grateful that my mother got the chance to see my children, whereas some would never get that chance.

A year later, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. We all hate the C word and automatically think of the worst. My dad was always strong, and I knew he would fight this right to the end. He was told he only had six months to live. That pain hit my heart again. I was still going through the grieving process for my mom, and now this! I asked the Lord when all this would end! I felt like my family was dropping like flies around me.

My dad would get up and still go for a walk to the pub on a Sunday morning to sit with his friends. He would never expect a lift from them. He would have his two pints and then come home. A few weeks later, he picked up a cold, then it turned into a chest infection, then it turned into pneumonia. I had a call in the middle of the night from my stepmother telling me that my dad only had hours to live. The pain hit yet again.

My dad and I had previously spoken about when the time would come for his death. He didn’t want me there. He didn’t want me to remember him on his deathbed; he wanted me to remember him the way he was. Not going to the hospital was hard, but all I could do all night was go through the situations I was grateful for. The memories we had made, the chance that he got to see my children, and knowing that he will always be watching over me.

I was grateful to have had parents for 30 years of my life. It may not have been a lot compared to some, but it was more than a lot too. I have always been grateful for the opportunities that I had with them, the time spent with them, the lessons I learned from them. I look back and there is always something to be grateful for. At the time, you can’t see it because you’re going through a broken heart, a shattered heart, but time does heal. I see a robin, and I always think if it’s Mom or Dad. I hear a song played that reminds me of either one of them.

I sit in nature in silence and just be. Listening to nature’s chorus while thinking about my parents and expressing how grateful I am for them and for nature. I know they’re with me wherever I go. For that, I am truly grateful. The divine spirit will always keep shining through and will never fail us. 💫🙏🏻