Some reflections

I wrote a few blog posts after my Dad died in January (intro, first, second, third). I’ve just looked back at them, and the last was written just eight days after he passed away. Though I now know that time gets very, very twisted during such an emotionally traumatic time, it still strikes me as a sligtly odd thing to have done so soon after he died. Completely cathartic though. And I’m glad I did. But it might have been a bit indulgent. This post probably is, too.

It’s been a few months since Dad passed away, and I’ll admit that, at times, it’s been far from easy. But – and it’s an extraordinary thing to say when you’ve lost a parent – I feel today as though I’ve come through things in a more positive place. I’m (hopefully) a better person for the things I’ve learned. And that only makes me feel more love for Dad because in his death (and, let’s face it, we’re all going to get there) he helped that to happen. That’s an amazing parting gift.

The photo below (excuse the quality) was from last month, a family gathering in London. It wasn’t until I was looking at the picture later that day that I noticed the gap, right next to my daughter, where Dad might have been. That’s not a sad thing, by the way (though it did make me cry at the time); he’d have been delighted that we were geting together and having fun. That’s the first positive: we’ve made more effort to get together as a family in the past few months, and it’s a lovely thing. In fact my Mum and my daughter are currently away on a fantastic trip together. And again, that’s something that probably wouldn’t have happened had Dad still been with us.

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Here are a few things I’ve either learned (or been reminded of) since Dad died:

1. Family and friends. Blood might be thicker, but water keeps us alive.

Of course, since Dad died, the support I’ve received from (and hopefully give to) family members has been critical. But Mum and Dad had friends who had known them for decades – many more than 50 years – who they spent more time with than family and with whom they created amazing memories. It’s easy to focus all the attention on immediate family when someone dies, but close friends need support as well, because they feel the loss as keenly as any of us. And helping them, helps you too.

I’ve always felt blessed to have some very good friends. Over the past months I’ve discovered how incredible many of them are. And not just those I’ve had for years. Some of the most supportive, helpful friends have been those I’ve met more recently, often through work, and often because of their own similar experience. It would be too long a list of people to write here, but I hope they know who they are. All I do know is that, when they need me, I’ll be there for them too.

But I won’t wait for them to ask, because…

2. “Is there anything I can do?” is a bloody useless question.

It’s entirely well-meaning, of course, and bless people for it, but when you’re in the midst of grieving for a parent, you have absolutely no idea what anyone else might be able to do to help. But I get it, and I’m sure I’d have asked the same thing, because most people have no idea what they might possibly be able to do to help, either. So it’s a bit of a Catch-22.

A couple of people didn’t ask, though. They just arranged things and asked me if I might fancy joining them. I did, and it helped. Enormously. The key thing, though, is not to make it a group activity. This isn’t about cheering you up with a bunch of mates, it’s about an opportunity to spend time with someone who cares, and who will happily spend an evening listening to you talk about your Dad, and to let you cry without awkwardness or judgement, or simply to help you escape for a few hours.

I’ve got a feeling it’s something maybe women had worked out a while ago, but it’s less natural for us fellas. And not all your male friends will feel comfortable doing it (though most probably will to be fair). But it’s invaluable, as we’re (thankfully) talking more and more openly about in relation to mental health, depression and suicide.

3. Perspective

Excuse my language but, fuck me, I’ve gained some perspective on what’s important to me. In short:

  • Spend as much time as possible with people who enrich your life (inside and outside work) and doing things which fulfil you. Time is the most precious commodity we’ve got. Try not to waste it.
  • Look for the positive. Don’t be a moaner. Search out solutions. Take responsibility for your own happiness. Be prepared to make changes.
  • If given the chance, help someone else out. You’ll derive as much benefit as they do. Probably more. That can be as small a thing as giving someone directions in the street (I love giving people directions in the street).
  • Invest in experiences, not stuff. We need less than we think. But when you do buy stuff, buy things you’ll want to keep forever.
  • Exercise. And do so outside whenever possible.
  • Drink less, but of better quality.
  • Get more sleep.
  • When given a choice, do the right thing.
  • You always have a choice.

To everyone who’s helped me over the past few months, thank you.

Mark xx

 

One thought on “Some reflections

  1. […] Mark Pinsent’s beautiful article on his reflections on his fathers death and some principles to live […]

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