Grief is a Bear...

... Seriously, just go with me on this.

Since October 18, 2015 when my entire world came down around my ears I have felt like there is a rather large, deeply formidable and scary bear following me around. This bear is my grief and it is monstrous. 

It's been a bit of a shitty week. The ongoing fallout from me bolloxing my beloved car... The running of three Slimming World groups wearing me out ... And then to top it all off, a bastard cold virus. My upper lip is 86.4% cold sore which has led to many questions from the children at school about "that thing" on my face. Some were slightly more diplomatic... "Have you had a nose bleed?" asked one girl, her head tilted to one side in concern. No, no I haven't. I'm just burnt out and my body is letting me know how deeply unimpressed it is with me by giving me a scabby lip! 

All of these niggles and annoyances added up until I found myself weeping under a tree in the park earlier this evening. I realise how terribly Jane Austen that sounds but trust me it wasn't. Lizzie Bennett wouldn't have been honking her bogeys in to a scrunched up bit of kitchen roll that still had traces of cake crumbs in it now, would she?

So why the tears? I miss my dad. A simple sentence just four words in length but it means everything. I changed that day. It is my humble opinion that the two things that change you most in life are becoming a parent and losing a parent. In a way, I know I am lucky that I experienced the former then the latter meaning that my dad did indeed get to meet both of my children but he's not here now and he will not see them grow. 

Welcoming Eva in to the world back in December 2008 rewired me at my very core and changed my understanding about what it means to love someone. Losing my dad in October 2015, changed my programming again. Now I had to try and process the notion that the world would indeed keep spinning even without Steven Reeve on it. 

In the (almost) thirty four years of my life prior to my father's untimely departure, I would have been described by anyone who knew me well as an "emotional" person. I cried. A lot. At the drop of a hat in fact. Anything could set me off! A film, a song, a TV advert, books, the weather, an insult... Kati Reeve LOVED nothing more than a proper, good snotty weep! 

And then Dad died and everything changed. I remember crying and wailing uncontrollably in the moments after my sister broke the news to me but in the days that followed... Nothing. I felt like I should be crying but I just couldn't. I cried at the funeral... I also laughed a lot too but that's another story. 

Now there are things that I want to cry over and times that I feel moved to tears. I want to express those feelings and the little bastards just won't come. My job can be very emotional at times. Members are astonishingly brave and open in group about their struggles with their weight, how being overweight has made them feel... We run competitions throughout the year and the nominees will pour their hearts out! I feel deeply moved, I want to cry so they know that their story has touched me and nothing comes. And then I'll bawl twelve hours later over something completely innocuous! 

Again, I find myself pondering what the point of my post is. If I'm just saying "Grief is rubbish" ... Well we can file that one firmly under "No shit!" can't we?! I think I just needed to clear my head and this seems to be as good a way as any to do that. 

As ever, I hope that something in my ramblings will resonate with someone who reads it. A few folks close to me have queried why it is that I need to put my most intimate thoughts and feelings out in to the world. Why not just write it as a Word document and save it...? I wish I had a good answer but the best one I can give is that I hope it helps someone. I've taken real comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in sometimes finding motherhood an (almost!) impossible struggle and I am so grateful to bloggers like Hurrah for Gin's Katie and Sarah, The Unmumsy Mum... Not forgetting the lovely Giovanna Fletcher. So maybe reading this will comfort someone... Maybe they too have a Grief Bear following them around threatening to swallow them whole. Maybe their grief is a different beast altogether but they'll identify with my broken emotions and tear ducts not working and performing when I want and need them too! Who knows?! The other explanation for the blogging is of course coz I like attention but again, that's another entry for another day. 

Until next time, kids...