Honest sat in my Tumblr account unpublished for two years. I’m celebrating death and all the ripples that follow. I found it hard at the time to push the button. Thinking more about how the topic would be read than the actual purpose of why I started writing about my experience. Here is what I wrote two years ago, sitting on the floor of my cupboard and thinking about how nothing matters. All we need to do is be honest with ourselves. Make our way through the challenges knowing that all we are is just a ‘Sky full of stars’ — Coldplay.

Sometimes being honest with yourself takes time.
It may take an incident to spark a new lease on life. Or a loss of a life to put your achievements, goals and pressures into perspective. People mean the world to me and it’s the daily conversations with people that make it a little easier. Dealing with the unexpected loss of my six year old nephew, who wasn’t sick, but left us suddenly in his sleep. A rare genetic heart condition “Long QT Syndrome” unfortunately was never detected, hence why it is also known as the silent killer. Not only did I lose one love, but two (my grandfather) within a month of each other. My grandfather died on the day my nephew would have been celebrating his seventh birthday.
All the waves of emotions made me realise how important it is to be honest. That it’s okay to be vulnerable and soft. That everyone has or will at some point in their lives share a moment on the wave of grief. My thoughts are wanting to be mindful and sharing a moment with others, can often be the best healing. But my body just wants to hide away and take the experience for itself.
It doesn’t matter where the hippest and latest opening is. The number of likes or followers on your social media handles you have or the fact you are ticking off boxes and crossing off those lists. What matters is the relationships that you build everyday, no matter where in the world you are. It will always be, the people who make a difference to your day. The conversation you have with a random stranger or that moment when you ball your eyes out over a simple cup of coffee when your favourite barista asks “How are you”?
So for two months we have swam the wave and had some moments that are just plain tough. There is no right or wrong way to feel this emotion, you just need to feel it. Disconnecting was the best thing to do, but traveling has helped somewhat to heal a very heavy heart, that is also on the other side (but i will tell you all about that another time.)
For those who do read this little blog, Thank you. And I hope to press the ‘Post’ button more often!

That was two years ago. We ran away for a little while after I wrote this, but found it didn’t really help. What has helped is having time. Time to reflect, argue with the world, be bitter with yourself and often your family.

One morning you wake up and things all of a sudden are a clearer. You are less challenged with family issues. You embrace the early morning sounds and long dark nights. You research about genetics, you write without thinking of others and realise that you have no control at all. Unfortunately there is truth in the saying ‘My life changed within minutes’.

Still to this day Nikolas is still very much part of our lives. He often gives us little moments that tell us he is close. My moment of connection with him was after really opening my heart with dance and challenging myself to learn Ballet. His song came on (you know the one that is picked for the time when you have to physically say ‘goodbye’) during class and I proudly danced, stretched it out and walked out of the class with tears of joy rolling down my face.

I said hello and goodbye to him again, all within my moment of letting go of that wave I had.

Sadness is a great thing!