31 tcf.org.uk The horse chestnut offers shelter and hosts grubs; encouraging and welcoming the birds who sing out from the green canopy. This leads me to recognise that we can still have people connecting around us, highlighting the importance of friends who stay close by and help us through all the painful stages of grief. Although unwanted, bereavement can also open the door to new acquaintances, who understand and become unexpected refuge and support, which can grow into strong and positive friendships: Creating new life, new relationships and new experiences. Thus, life continues, even though death is here. We can live, encourage, inspire and gather other people around us. Like the horse chestnut tree, we feel broken, but we can remember and value the love that we have lost, whilst appreciating who or what we still have in our lives. Allowing ourselves to continue to grow and develop, finding joy from the little things and, hopefully, spreading kindness, love, happiness and shelter to others, like the horse chestnut tree. COMPASSION | FEATURE - LOSING MY FAMILY I was cooking when the call came. “It’s probably nothing to worry about,” said my aunt as she started to tell me about her phone call with my brother. He had been talking, she said, and the line had suddenly gone quiet. She thought I should check he was OK. I had been looking forward to showing Tom our new home. I knew he would love the garden. I wanted to show him the grape vines and the willow tree, and the stone walls that shielded us from a deer park full of sheep. I wanted to show him the raspberries growing in cages and the apple trees and the pond. He was coming for lunch on Sunday. I knew what I was going to cook him. I knew he would bring some good – some really good – wine. I called Tom’s landline. I called his mobile. I sent him an email. I didn’t have his best friend’s number but sent him a message on Twitter. I didn’t know who to call after that, but the pit in my stomach told me something was wrong. I was in the car with my partner, on the two-anda-half-hour journey to Tom’s house, when his best friend called me. He was at the house. The Losing My Family by Christina Patterson
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