Be the help you needed.
That’s always been my motto. My blueprint. My words-in-guiding-armour that help me forward whenever I feel stuck. Especiaslly in these terrifying times of deep grief when I hesitate to share my sadness and struggles for fear of losing subscribers or upsetting those here for the laughs.
But.
What I have today has to be shared.
It has to be.
Last week I experienced panic and hope in a way that I never expected. Or knew how to cope with. But I did cope…and by talking about these things I felt empowered and obliged to share.
I wish I’d known about the physiological side of grief. I wish someone had warned me what it does to your brain. Your mood, your thoughts.
I hope by sharing my experiences, I can be the help for you.
Thank you for listening and watching. We love you.
Arohanui
Liz and Brian xx
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Links mentioned in the show:
These five letters are from my personal journals.
I wrote these five letters in the days and weeks after my Mum’s passing. During the darkest and hardest of times. When I needed hope instead of gloom. Light in place of dark. Laughter instead of snot. When I needed my mum.
I would love to share these letters with you in the hope they bring you the comfort, love and inspiration that they brought me.
It is my honour to share them with you.
Sign up for Liz’s Five Letters here.
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More Behind the Scenes Episodes From It’s a Drama:
Grief. It looks like this (but feels like that)
Unwanted News Behind the Scenes
Coping. Or not. Behind the Scenes
How’s Life Alone? Behind the Scenes With Tessa
Thanks for the message. Very similar to the one I sent you. I am glad I have an address now!
Kindest regards, and sincere condolences on your loss. You will recover in most ways soon; in other ways you will never recover. Thats what it is like!
When Dad died in 1973, a few months after my first nephew was born, Mum was in Hastings and m sister and I were at university in WellingtonIt was very quick he died from a stroke. When Mum died in 1994 she had been in a succession of hospitals for months, she died in the evening and we were too late to say good-bye but the nurses, an Indian lady, grieved for us and felt her passing for us. My wife’s Mum is now 94, soon 95 and I am doing what I can to support her in her Mums last few months (or years!) She is really eating a lot just now, so I am glad she is enjoying her food and is as cheeky as ever! She gave up driving at 86 as she believed she was driving too fast.