This week I lost a very elderly relative. My daughter’s namesake in fact. My daughter has been lucky enough to have met her a few times and it was very special seeing them together.
We’ve all felt very sad, but the thing I’ve been the most struck by is the perspective it suddenly gave. It took me out of the banal complaints of not tidying the toys, too much rubbish to fit in the bin, bedtime getting later, noticing my toddler’s eating has been fussy after a cold.
It reminded me that what matters most is the way we make others in our lives feel for the duration of our time together. In my body, when I think of that person, I remember the feeling of being loved, of having someone be proud of me, of being proud myself, and on the flip side, sometimes a fear of disappointing family for making independent choices as an adult, or for doing things differently than the generation before.
I know as a psychologist that spending too much time ruminating on those thoughts isn’t helpful when working through pain. So I allowed myself to share what I was feeling for a while at home, and then soothed my nervous system by watching my toddler navigate her new slide (badly)! Life could move on, just a little differently.