I've just subscribed to your writing after a gentle instagram advert from dear Remy. I am of course so very sorry for the unflinching amount of shit you've all been through and are going through. I wanted to thank you for your words - it is a total privilege to read them - and to thank you for talking about grief and the hardest of things with humanity, frankness and authenticity. I believe it matters greatly, both to fellow grievers and also to those who seek to understand and support. Sending you all my love, and I look forward to hearing more when you've the time and space to share.
I am comforted to know you are on the other end of these words and encouraged to hear you feel they are meaningful both to helping understand what this all feels like and also to processing grief. It is a gift from you to me to know that. Thank you.
Sending love and a hug back to you.
And to dear Cardiff - somewhere that hold such potent memories for me as it did for Imogen.
Much much love to you all George. I hope Wales had happy memories for you both. I shall think of you both as I take my morning walk on the River Taff each morning and send you love.
Also, I don't know if music is helpful at the moment, but your writing is reminding me of an album written by a band called Mount Eerie called A Crow Looked At Me. The lead singer Phil Elverum also lost his wife and shared his grief in music. For me it is the most pertinent and profound telling of grief in musical form and in real time. I like how he doesn't make it palatable or polite for the listener - it is of course deeply sad and moving but it's often surprising and the is a dark humour and sardonic tone in it all that I (as a fellow griever under different circumstances) much appreciate. Thought to mention incase a listen might bring some comfort.
Sending big hugs to you all, please do keep sharing when you can and know that you are heard and seen.
Thank you Katie. Such happy memories. Imogen was at uni there for three years and loved it. And of course I was there pretty much every year once a year for a good five years of so, pretending to know what I was doing…
I am listening to a lot of music at the moment and always grateful for suggestions. I listen to yours as I write this and it’s very much up my street, hard to hear as it is.
I feel seen and heard: which, for someone who has spent their life trying to not be, is an unusual craving to experience and have fulfilled. But it is needed. So thank you.
I hope you are seeking and finding what you need, whatever that may be, amidst your own grief.
I am appreciating how vulnerable this post must have been to write, and how you are longing to have a benefit to this writing beyond the processing and feedback it gives you and the gift it is to those of use who are reading - something to bring even deeper meaning and purpose to it.
Thank you Sarah. Yes it was a bit leap to invite payments for my writing; wound up in all sorts of self-doubt and discomfort. But like a lot of scary things, once you’ve done them, you question why it took you so long in the first place. Thank you for your tender and considered appreciation.
Dear George.
I've just subscribed to your writing after a gentle instagram advert from dear Remy. I am of course so very sorry for the unflinching amount of shit you've all been through and are going through. I wanted to thank you for your words - it is a total privilege to read them - and to thank you for talking about grief and the hardest of things with humanity, frankness and authenticity. I believe it matters greatly, both to fellow grievers and also to those who seek to understand and support. Sending you all my love, and I look forward to hearing more when you've the time and space to share.
Sending a big cwtch to you all from Cardiff.
Katie Elin-Salt xxxxx
Dear Katie,
Thank you for your compassion.
I am comforted to know you are on the other end of these words and encouraged to hear you feel they are meaningful both to helping understand what this all feels like and also to processing grief. It is a gift from you to me to know that. Thank you.
Sending love and a hug back to you.
And to dear Cardiff - somewhere that hold such potent memories for me as it did for Imogen.
x
Much much love to you all George. I hope Wales had happy memories for you both. I shall think of you both as I take my morning walk on the River Taff each morning and send you love.
Also, I don't know if music is helpful at the moment, but your writing is reminding me of an album written by a band called Mount Eerie called A Crow Looked At Me. The lead singer Phil Elverum also lost his wife and shared his grief in music. For me it is the most pertinent and profound telling of grief in musical form and in real time. I like how he doesn't make it palatable or polite for the listener - it is of course deeply sad and moving but it's often surprising and the is a dark humour and sardonic tone in it all that I (as a fellow griever under different circumstances) much appreciate. Thought to mention incase a listen might bring some comfort.
Sending big hugs to you all, please do keep sharing when you can and know that you are heard and seen.
Katie xxx
Thank you Katie. Such happy memories. Imogen was at uni there for three years and loved it. And of course I was there pretty much every year once a year for a good five years of so, pretending to know what I was doing…
I am listening to a lot of music at the moment and always grateful for suggestions. I listen to yours as I write this and it’s very much up my street, hard to hear as it is.
I feel seen and heard: which, for someone who has spent their life trying to not be, is an unusual craving to experience and have fulfilled. But it is needed. So thank you.
I hope you are seeking and finding what you need, whatever that may be, amidst your own grief.
X
I am appreciating how vulnerable this post must have been to write, and how you are longing to have a benefit to this writing beyond the processing and feedback it gives you and the gift it is to those of use who are reading - something to bring even deeper meaning and purpose to it.
Thank you Sarah. Yes it was a bit leap to invite payments for my writing; wound up in all sorts of self-doubt and discomfort. But like a lot of scary things, once you’ve done them, you question why it took you so long in the first place. Thank you for your tender and considered appreciation.