It has been 64 days since I held this hand, a hand that has shaped me in more ways than I could possibly fit into a blog post. My grandmother was old school, proud, generous and selfless, amongst many other things. She lived her 87 years with grace, dignity and strength beyond the ordinary. Losing her only daughter, my Mother, to the brain injury and cancer that changed our lives forever. Finding a reason to love again when my son was born, and not long after losing her husband of 63 years.
Yes I am going there, sharing is my thing, extracting lessons is my gift, and what is the point of having a gift if it is not shared tenderly with others? Regret, guilt, disillusion, anger and bitterness have no place in my healing process. Of course they crop up in the initial stages following a major decision, betrayal, hurt or other traumatic life event. They have their place during that very raw time of shock, to remind us just how toxic they are, and how much they slow down our recovery! It is far more conducive to healing without scars if we can sift through all of this and look for the lessons.
The medication and the therapy need topping up, I know too well not to rely solely on these things for my mental wellbeing. It would be lazy of me, like making an awesome cake and leaving off the icing. Nobody really wants a cake without icing? Just like nobody really wants a half baked life. Depression and anxiety fight dirty, they know exactly when to show their unwelcome faces so I need to be prepared at all times.