Since the death of my auntie Zak ( I still can’t accept typing or even saying those words), I’ve noticed selfless acts of kindness towards me, everywhere. Perhaps the kindness was always there but I’m noticing more because I need it more.
I want to note recent events that have touched my heart.
The lady who saw me crying on the train and insisted I take a fairy cake her daughter made her, home with me. Readers who went out of their way to find my email address and sent emails on how to handle grief, or just to check I was sleeping as they knew I was blogging late at night. Facebook messages, tweets, blog comments full of support and love, mostly from people I’ve never met… Colleagues who offered soothing words when a shoot felt hard. Staff at a hotel I work with, who I was unaware even followed me, offering condolences and kindness at every turn and of course friends and family who have been rocks to me…People who truly cared and showed it to buoy me up and help me through the worst. I’m wrapping myself in their altruism.
I’m an textbook empath so absorb people’s energy and light but also their darkness, I care about others and always have (my Mum remembers me crying on holiday after we gave money to a homeless family and I refused to leave them).
Being sympathetic means being able to read people and situations easily (which helped no end in my job as a director and made creating authentic performances on screen, a pleasure). I can spot inauthentic people, a mile off. It’s a gift I suppose although being blissfully ignorant, no doubt makes for an easier life…
I’m struggling hugely with the loss of Zak and find myself wading through the first stage of grief: denial, certain I’ll wake to find it’s all been some sort of nightmare, that Zak is with well and with us, still. Every day I wake up disturbed, and angry. Grief has already taught me lessons though, life-truths on what and whom matters and strength I didn’t know I had.
I took a day off on Friday, filling it fit to burst with people I love in all of my favourite places which was temporarily enjoyable, a chance to pause and laugh again yet I returned home, exhausted and in tears. Grief catches up with you, whatever you do.
So I’m accepting my emotions and rolling with them as the cool kids say; I realise there’re no easy answers here, or ways to grieve.
I’m hoping the funeral and being around my family will offer greater acceptance. I’m dreading saying goodbye but feel it might help heal us more than this limbo period of grief we’re in. We want to celebrate Zak’s beautiful life and the lessons she taught us. I’m a better person for knowing her and everyone I’ve spoken to has said the same, even those who only met her briefly. She lit up the room she was in and touched us all with her way of life: to embrace it all, to make it an adventure (and to buy the damn shoes).
Thank you all for your kindness. Kindness is contagious, it encourages us to be more generous with our time, energy and love. Throw it around selflessly as you don’t know how much it might be helping others x