Author: Oana

Advice for when you have a bereaved friend

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Georgie has been gone for 11 weeks now and of course we have encountered a large array of reactions to the fact that we are now bereaved parents. 5 things and approaches I have been finding helpful: 1. Let me take the lead I have found very liberating the fact that many friends and acquaintances have allowed me to take the lead in this. A simple “sorry for your loss” usually has sufficed but for me the most precious reaction has been the utterance, either verbal or non-verbal “it is ok to feel whatever you need to feel when I am around.” I have been very honest with my emotions. In my own terms. in my personal space, which is either my home or my blog. The chances are slim that I will burst into tears on the street or in a random conversation. But if I lead the conversation towards Georgie and either rant about a baby blankie, shed a tear or tell you about one of our horrific hospital experiences, the most you …

Frustration

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It has slowly crept in. Like a dirty, minging dog into the immaculate and impeccable territory of a house-proud home owner. This feeling of frustration. Of hopelessness. Of despair. Of “I will never amount to anything much.” For years now I have longed to be of use. To my husband. To God. To society. I have prayed. I have blogged. I have enquired. I have applied. I have kept my hope. I have fought. Yet nothing has happened. For I am still only a stay at home mummy. I am still only an overqualified yet useless substitute teacher. I am still only a dreamer with big dreams of communities changing through the involvement of the church. Dreaming of the reversal of the curse of generational patterns. I am still only a mummy blogger, like so many other thousands in the UK. I am still only a writer who dreams that her words will one day change and soothe and give hope. I have so many talents. I have such a desire to help and serve …

I am it all…

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For those who know me in person, I know that you find it strange. I am sure you asked yourself how come my posts and pictures are so emotionally heavy yet my day-to-day countenance so “normal.” How come I can joke and be silly and give off about the most banal of things while in the same time I mourn the loss of my precious son. I do because I am it all: 1. I am the grieving mother who cracks up every single day in the safety of her home and the sacredness of her kitchen and cries until the knot of pain unties, just for that day, just to be able to breathe. 2. I am the angry mother who beeps her horn( I did it on Monday, in my weak defense) and calls you “lazy bum” if you park in the middle of the road at school run times. Because I have no tolerance not patience, nor do I understand why apparently healthy individuals choose to not walk an extra fifty steps. …