I don’t know how I feel about this prompt. One of my bugbears is the word normal, and the way that people might tell you that it is normal to feel a certain way, or to react to a death in a particular way. I understand what they may be aiming at, but I struggle with the word normal.
Because the truth is, nothing is normal. Not anymore. Not once grief enters your life. Not once there is shadow where there was once light, grief where there was once love. Normal, as you knew it, as you had got used to it, is no more.
But then again, all that I am doing and have been doing these last 13 years- especially so in writing the book- has been to try and normalise the not normal. To talk about the things that we’ve been told by society we shouldn’t talk about. To push the boundaries of the shadows and invite people into them with me, while walking with people in theirs.
And talking about it all like it’s normal. Because it is. And it isn’t. And it is… this is the bittersweet complexity of grief.