I’ve nearly run out of words. I continue to be completely rocked by how much the world we are all currently living in feels like grief. Constant, perpetual, mind numbing grief. And we are talking about it all the time, because we have to, there isn’t much else to do.  But it’s zapping my words somewhat. 

I love words. Words are important. More words will come. I continue to encourage us all to use our words to illuminate ours and other people shadows. But today, see this as a pause for breath, a pause for thought, in the midst of the words.    

Lex xx

Sometimes, it can be comforting and healing to remember, that while someone you really want to be here may not be, there will still be lots of people in your circle who want to support you. And it can be helpful to place them in circles, giving you an idea of who you would go to if you needed support. 

It is a really cathartic exercise, thinking about the people still in your life who love you and are in your corner. And it can be fun to be creative and actually design your circles. So here are my support circles…

Today, I encourage everyone to have a think about their support circles, it might not just be for when you are grieving, it could be for these interesting times we currently live in- which many people have commented actually does fee a little bit like grief. 

Have a go, remind yourself of all the people that love or support you. 

Lex xx

I think one of the hardest things to come to terms with when someone becomes a Christian, is the realisation that we are not promised an easy road. There is something in giving your life to Christ, and the other self denial, and taking up of one’s cross that comes with it, that dupes us into thinking that we should therefore get a fair go of life. 

It isn’t the case though. And what’s more we are told the opposite, that in fact things are going to be tough! 

But what else are we told?

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ³⁶ As it is written,“For your sake we are being killed all day long;  we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.”³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, ³⁹ nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

We are reminded in Paul’s letter to the Romans that we will suffer. That there will be hardship, distress, persecution and all sorts of dangers that could lead to our death. We are humans, and when we become Christians, that doesn’t change. We are flesh and blood, designed to wear out. One days our bodies will get poorly, get old, get tired and die. And so, just as death is part of the human condition, so is grief. Because as humans we are not only made to die, we are made for relationship. 

Grieving is written into our DNA. 

But what are we promised in spite of these hardships? That nothing separates us from the love of God. That God’s love is stronger than death. 

It’s not just an idea that Paul has, Paul says he is convinced of it. I love that word convinced, because it gives me the feeling that he’s tried other ways of thinking, he’s held on to other ideas, but this is the only one that has stuck. He’s left holding on to this because his life literally depends on it. 

I am convinced that we will all die. I am convinced that grief is one of the most painful things we will all have to experienced. I am convinced that God’s love is stronger than the grave and I cannot be separated from it. 

Lex xx

There are many things that bring healing, not all at the same time and not always to the same degree, but it is so comforting that there are things in the world that heal. 

• Sunshine. Sometimes we are more like flowers than we care to appreciate, just a little bit of sun our faces, feeds and heal our souls and hearts. 
• Salt water. Being in the sea. Being near the sea. Smelling the sea. Sweating. Crying. Salt water heals some of the hurts. 
• Dirt. Whether it is getting in the dirt gardening or cleaning off dirt in the house, there is something about getting back to basics in the dirt that is healing. 
• Moving.
• Creating. It’s why I write. But there is also painting, singing, dancing, taking photos. Creating reminds us that there is hope and new life and potential in the world. 
• Silence. Sometimes a quiet world helps us to heal when our hearts and minds are anything but.

Lex xx

I, by no means nor stretch of the imagination, consider myself to be wise. Those closest to me will attest to points in my life marked by a distinct lack of wisdom and complete ignorance of any kind of logic. But let it never be said that I don’t make mistakes, and sometimes I even manage to learn from them. To that end, I do have some collected wisdom; of grieving, thinking, writing and teaching these last few years. 

• It will bloody hurt.
• No seriously, it will hurt, a lot… but not all at once and not the same for ever. 
• If people say let me know if you need anything, both you and they will be relieved if you give them a practical job to do. They want to help, but they don’t know how. 
• If you’re releasing balloons, don’t do it near a tree. But actually, just don’t dot it anymore, it’s hella bad for the environment. 
• Don’t eat all your feelings. 
• Shop around for a therapist. It is ok to have one session and realise it isn’t gonna work out, it’s like dating. When you know it’s right, it’s right. 
• People will think you’re “over it”– be kind to them. 
• You might think you’re “over it”– be kind to yourself.
• Carry on loving. Love often, love joyfully, love hard.

Lex xx

I graduated under the wrong name. The principal of my, very small (I’m talking a graduating year of 8) college, who knew me personally, read my name out wrong and I graduated as Alexandra Bradbury… not my name. 

It didn’t matter, my certificate said the right thing, and I got up on the stage at the right time, shook hands with the right man, posed for my photo and sat down. 

Then I burst into tears. 

My classmates all gathered around and were trying to console me, telling me that it was ok and everyone knew who she meant, that my certificate was correct and that the name read out didn’t matter. I knew that. And them trying to console me made things worse. See, they thought I was crying because I was a pre-madonna crying because she didn’t get her moment in the limelight under the right name. 

I was crying because I had been ambushed. 

I had just been hit by a truck of grief. Grief that I, for some reason still unbeknown to me, wasn’t expecting on that particular day.  The girl who had written her entire dissertation on grief, devoted a chapter to the notion of emotional and developmental milestones and the effect of their “re-grieving” on children and young people, had been blindsided by her own grief at her graduation day. 

Sometimes grief ambushes are simple moments where there isn’t necessarily a reason, but suddenly there is a swell and we have been tossed into the rough seas of grief once again. But often for me, I am most ambushed by times when it is natural to be grieving again, and I just haven’t necessarily expected it to be the case. I think that is the curse of writing and teaching on bereavement, it’s become a little sanitised and theorised.

But even now, 13 years on, and 10 years into writing about it, Grief is still surprising and has the power to ambush me. 

Lex xx (Not Alexandra Bradbury)  

Sometimes love letters are huge long sagas of beautiful words, but they say that a picture is worth a thousand words. So maybe this will suffice. 

Happy Mothers Day Mama. 

Lex xx

The book of Revelation used to really scare me, it is all quite literally a bit end of the worldy! The idea of a life to come after death is comforting, but the reality as described in Revelation has animals covered in eyes and actual monsters. But then when we’re faced with the possibility of end of the world- I don’t actually think we’re in the midst of the apocalypse, but a global pandemic sure feels like it right?- it doesn’t necessarily seem quite as scary. 

And then we read verse like Revelation 21: 3-4…

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

I find myself in the position in my life where the majority of people I live most of my life  with and interact with most didn’t know me pre-grief. My family and oldest friends aside, most people in my life never met my mum. My partner didn’t know what I was like with my mum in my life. Anyone who has met me in the last 13 and a half years, all of my adult life, have only ever known me with grief and shadow as part of my life. 

And so, because of this, the question that is most appreciated any time anyone asks me is, what was your mum like? 

I think the kindest thing that anyone can offer someone who is grieving, offering them a light in the shadows, is to ask them about their loved one. Allow yourself to be invited into their shadows and walk with them there. 

Lex xx

What an interesting question… I’ve pondered this question a lot since I first read it on the list of prompts at the beginning of Lent. 

I guess there are some aspects of grief that society think go hand in hand with being a woman. I think it is far more socially acceptable for a woman to cry, openly, and at length. Indeed, I think sometime society has a problem with women who don;t necessarily express grief through tears. Society at large is comfortable with a vulnerable woman quietly sobbing in the corner. I think that there is still more of a “societal problem” with a man crying or openly showing emotion. Part of some of the death and bereavement seminars I have done with young people over the last few years has been attempt to normalise tears amongst all genders. 

I think the opposite is probably true with anger in grief. I’m guessing that society would be more uncomfortable with a woman’s rage than a mans- but I have very little to base that on, I’m just guessing. 

I think the fact that I researched, I read, I wrote, I learned and I got published because of (?) my grief breaks with societies rules a little maybe. I would imagine that isn’t the standard “rule” for a grieving person- especially a comparatively young one. 

But these are all my guesses, because as much as I have pondered this prompt for a while, I don’t know if there is a firm answer. 

Lex xx