On Your Own Cocker

Grief changes you in ways you never thought possible.

Not just because the people you love are no longer here, but because it has a funny way of stripping back to what really matters.

For so long my life has revolved around everyone else. I was a daughter, a carer, a wife, a mum, and a business owner. Looking after people became who I was. It wasn’t something I did; it became of huge part of my life. When mum was diagnosed 6 years ago life changed over night. Everyday was planned around her needs as well as trying to maintain a family, a business and my mental health.

Then one day everything changed.

When Mum and Dad died, I thought my world has ended with theirs. Forty years of my life, 40 Christmas’s, birthdays, celebrations gone just like that. I couldn’t imagine laughing without feeling guilty or making plans that didn’t include them. It almost felt wrong to think about the future they were not going to be in.

But over the past few months, something has shifted.

I’ve realised that living my life for Mum and Dad isn’t what they would have wanted for me. In fact, I think it would have broken their hearts. They didn’t spend years raising me to stop living the moment they stopped breathing.

They taught me to be kind, to work hard, to stand on my own two feet and, most importantly, to stay true to myself. Not to follow the crowd. Not to change who I am to make other people comfortable. To be me.

Somewhere, somehow along this journey I have started to do exactly that, without even realising it. For the first time in a really long time, I’m choosing me and my little family. I’m choosing to make the memories with my husband (the year we got married was the year my mum became poorly, our married lives were put on hold for 6 years!) To laugh with my children. To dream. To travel. To build a future that excites us instead of living in the shadow of the past.

Grief hasn’t taken away my love for my parents.

It’s reminded me of how precious time really is.

It’s also changed the way I parent.

One thing I have learnt through loss is life is far too short to spend it chasing people who don’t value you. I now tell my children something I wish more people had told me years ago. Value yourself and if people do not align with your value then simply walk away. Your energy is precious, be careful who you give it too.

Protect your peace.

I’ve had to make that decision for myself.

There are people I have walked away from since my parents died, and it is simply because our values no longer align. Not through anger, resentment or upset, but because I’ve realised my energy is precious.

Loosing Mum and Dad has also taught me something I never thought about before.

We spend to much of our lives afraid. Afraid of change, afraid of failure. Afraid of what other people think. Afraid of taking chances.

But death has a way of putting all that into perspective.

The truth is, every single one of us will die one day. That isn’t something to fear; it’s simply part of being lucky enough to have lived. So if that day is guaranteed, why waste time in between that truly isn’t yours?

My suffering and heartache through the years has changed me.

Not into someone bitter, into someone braver!

Someone who wants to see more of the world, make more memories, love harder, laugh louder and appreciate the ordinary moments that once passed me by. I refuse to work hard and have possessions to only die with no memories.

I still miss my parents every single day. Grief has a way of stomach punching you at the most unpredicted times.

But perhaps the greatest way I can honour them isn’t by standing still in my grief. It’s by living a life they would have been proud to watch.

Maybe that’s what “You’ll be on your own cocker” really meant. One day I have to find my own way and live the life I was born to live.

And slowly, one step at a time, I think I finally am.