The Gift of an Open Heart

Today, 21st March is our beloved Leroy's birthday. Nine years ago our beautiful boy was born. I am finding it hard to come to terms with that time frame. Nine years. Today is also World Down Syndrome Day, and World Harmony Day. Today I can't stop thinking that now, more than ever, we need to talk about grief and loss. 

Over the last 12-15 months we have been tying to work our way through catastrophic bushfires, a global pandemic, a growing climate emergency, and in amongst it, some really BIG and overdue conversations like Black Lives Matter and the prevalence of physical and sexual violence against women. 

Many of us are just trying to get through it all, to survive. Everything has changed. All that we took for granted, the travel, the freedom, our carefree way of life - it's gone. Connected to this, is our feelings of grief and loss. 

Don't get me wrong, there are many wonderful things going on and much to be thankful for,  but I reckon there's forgotten or hidden feelings of grief and loss going on in our communities, in our families, and in our workplaces. What makes it even more tricky, is that grief is an invisible wound. It's not like a broken leg or a scar that you can see. 

In my experience, talking openly about grief and loss isn't really typical, it's not common, and in fact is often a taboo subject. But it doesn't have to be.  

Every time I talk about loss and grief, even if it's just a fleeting conversation, I feel like I make it more 'normal' for those around me, and it also provides an opportunity to form closer bonds and friendships with the people I am talking with. 

Sometimes I am awkward, sometimes I fumble the words or the words won't come, sometimes my tears flow quickly, and sometimes I just don't have the energy or strength, and that's ok. What I do know, is that when I share about my journey (no matter how it comes out), about Leroy, and my grief, it can open up space for others to express their loss or grief, either at that time, or down the track with some one they trust. Sharing my experiences with others really helps me to process my grief and heal.  I've also noticed that when I share with others, I feel less alone. Loss, trauma, and grief can be a very isolating and lonely road. 

So many people have shared stories with me.  It might be the end of a job or marriage, or death of a pet, loss of freedom or the ability to do the things they love (like sport or other hobbies), or deep sadness at the state of our planet.  The more we allow a safe space for people to share, the more we can heal.

It's easy to underestimate how much difference we can make to others - just by listening or by sharing our vulnerabilities, or speaking our truth. One of the many things that the pandemic has taught me, is that we are all in this together. 

Through the generosity and support of friends,  I have recently fulfilled a long term dream of learning how to swim and I have taken up ocean swimming. I am finding it a very healing experience and I feel very connected to Leroy when I am being held in the water.  Today I am filled with sadness, and also with gratitude for so many things in my life, including the nearly seven months we had with Leroy.

Below is part of a larger poem called Tears at Sea.

There is a love that will never end and that is the love we have for our children.  Whether they out live us, or whether they depart this world before we do, our love for them does not end.

It is this love that will make the world a better place.  It is the lessons learned from the joy as well as the sorrow.

This is the reason and the purpose, perhaps not for those tragedies, but to come from them.

Happy birthday darling Leroy.