For half my life, the month of July has been painful and hard. I experienced my first brush with grief when my mum died suddenly in July when I was a young 25. It shook my life in immeasurable ways and I am known to dwell in the past which now, was the only place where I could find my mum. Every year as the scab over my heart thickened I would clock off the time as the memories of her began to fade and my panic would raise.

Last July, my soul sister and friend began her life’s end. A car accident saw her feeling thankful for not having any injuries only to be admitted to hospital a few days later. She bounced back after a week in hospital and we sat relieved, on her couch drinking tea and counting our blessings.  She felt truly happy in her new home and we were looking forward to watching her befriend the local birds and anything and anyone else that crossed her path. Suddenly, without any real warning our lives changed.  This time, it was her last stay in hospital-a place where she once felt safe- a place where her lovely life would end.

My world stopped too. All of a sudden I was thrust into the abyss of grief once more. All unshed tears for my lovely sister Joanne, dear friend Kerry and now Carrie, stockpiled in my system as the fear to let them out, took charge and I became numb. I went into auto-pilot and functioned. More drama spilled into my life and earlier this year I lost my in-laws.

It was not a conscious decision to change the energy of July although I believe it is by no accident that I write this in the Spanish city of Pomplona. The magical Camino Frances called me once more to take up the pilgrimage in the holy year when St James day falls on a Sunday the 25th of the month. This too being the 25th anniversary of my mum’s death. The San Fermín festival has not yet started but watching the community gather together in loving ways has been therapeutic to witness. Most of it will remain a mystery to me right now as I return to my walk before the formalities begin but it has served a purpose to me that I was unaware of.

The neutralising of the seventh month in a very healing way.

Buen Camino

One thought on “July

  1. still one of the saddest times of my life as well as Bernadette she was totally devestated at Cathie’s death . We will talk about that period of our profound grief at some time in the future as there lots of little anecdotes that I think should be remembered In your mums memory. I can honestly say now after my own loss of my love that I know what profound grief means and has not gone away and I dont think ever will .Love and God Bless Maurice

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