Beautifully written. I was in circle recently with some women, a few of whom had lost parents. They were talking about time being a healer. But I started to quietly cry…I’m 24 years on from losing my mum and it can still be hard. I hear a song on the radio, or there’s a smell that takes me back. It’s fascinating how we can time travel like that.
This is exactly how I feel. I was meditating on this sentiment this morning when I woke on the anniversary of my mum’s death. Time is a corseted construct that is so unhelpful when we are grieving. Years are moments. I can be drawn back immediately to the last time I held my mum but it was “in reality” seven years ago. xxx
We talk about this often in the support groups I facilitate. We hear well meaning people tell us “time is a good healer” but it’s not time itself that heals. It’s what we do with that time to heal. The grief work. 💛
“ I want it to be understood that some pain alters you permanently, some pain sits in your blood forever. There is no ‘back to normal’, or returning to who I was before. “ this is a brilliant way of putting it
Thank for this essay. I lost my mom about a month ago after my first term in college and it’s been very difficult. Your perspective that there is so return to normal but rather a comfortable new where loss is no longer painful to hold is very interesting. I hope time will do its sanding soon.
Thought-provoking and beautiful insights into the nature of time in grief and healing. I relate to this on such a deep and personal level. Thank you for sharing, Natalie 🙏🏼✨
grief is non-linear, as cliche as it sounds take the TIME that you need, I think with grief it evolves do you ever get over it - that is something I'm still trying to find the answer to.
Hey lovely, really resonated with this: 'Time still affects me, I still witness it's passing (sometimes with a violent speed), and yet I often perceive myself as static.'
I lost my Dad this Christmas and have been processing it through my Substack.
Beautifully written. I was in circle recently with some women, a few of whom had lost parents. They were talking about time being a healer. But I started to quietly cry…I’m 24 years on from losing my mum and it can still be hard. I hear a song on the radio, or there’s a smell that takes me back. It’s fascinating how we can time travel like that.
This is exactly how I feel. I was meditating on this sentiment this morning when I woke on the anniversary of my mum’s death. Time is a corseted construct that is so unhelpful when we are grieving. Years are moments. I can be drawn back immediately to the last time I held my mum but it was “in reality” seven years ago. xxx
We talk about this often in the support groups I facilitate. We hear well meaning people tell us “time is a good healer” but it’s not time itself that heals. It’s what we do with that time to heal. The grief work. 💛
“ I want it to be understood that some pain alters you permanently, some pain sits in your blood forever. There is no ‘back to normal’, or returning to who I was before. “ this is a brilliant way of putting it
Thank for this essay. I lost my mom about a month ago after my first term in college and it’s been very difficult. Your perspective that there is so return to normal but rather a comfortable new where loss is no longer painful to hold is very interesting. I hope time will do its sanding soon.
Every word resonates here on a cellular level.
Thank you for this. Grief is so complex. I lost my mum 7 months ago. It’s almost too much in moments but here I am. Gosh we are so resilient.
Thought-provoking and beautiful insights into the nature of time in grief and healing. I relate to this on such a deep and personal level. Thank you for sharing, Natalie 🙏🏼✨
XxxX
This was so beautifully written Natalie <3 very relatable descriptions of grief xxxx
grief is non-linear, as cliche as it sounds take the TIME that you need, I think with grief it evolves do you ever get over it - that is something I'm still trying to find the answer to.
Hey lovely, really resonated with this: 'Time still affects me, I still witness it's passing (sometimes with a violent speed), and yet I often perceive myself as static.'
I lost my Dad this Christmas and have been processing it through my Substack.
Thought you might connect with my latest piece - https://open.substack.com/pub/katiebriefel/p/on-shedding-and-reinvention?r=1g632&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true