Compassion Summer 2023

11 tcf.org.uk Crying Someone asked me the other day if there’s been a day when I haven’t cried? I know it was meant well but I thought a moment before I replied. Do the amount of tears represent my love for you? Does this volume of liquid show how much I grieve for you? Do the amount of tears show if I’m coping? Or is that what the question is hoping? Because the truth is, it varies each day. Sometimes the cries become wails, my body convulses and I sway, My lips turn blue, I can’t catch my breath, my legs buckle beneath me as I call out your name and all I need is YOU Then, other days are quieter, The pain is still raw but the tears are lighter. Glassy eyes, or a tear stained cheek, Silent sobs, but still so much grief. I’m beginning to realise that grief is not linear, Instead it’s learning to manage without you here. Finding my feet where you’re not by my side, Not how much or little that day I have cried. My way to grieve by Bee Hanson I have four wonderful children, but in 2021, my second son, Kai, died from suicide. He was just 18. It came out of the blue following a relationship break up which got nasty, making him feel he had lost his friends too. He was such a loyal, sociable and happy-go-lucky person, and the world, or my world at least, has never been the same since. Writing poems, especially about my survival, is part of my grieving process for my beautiful boy. I will always remember him and how he is loved by so many people that were lucky enough to have met him. COMPASSION | YOUR STORIES & POEMS We welcome contributions from any bereaved parent, sibling or grandparent. Please send your stories and poems to our Editor Gina at compassioneditor@tcf.org.uk