Memoirs of a biker widow (3)

Julia Day-Stewart - 20 Feb 18

Human behaviour

I am no expert in bereavement, I’ve had some formal teaching for the purpose of my career and now being on the other side I’ve also experienced bereavement.

Now, I’ve experienced the death of my grandparents, my childhood pets, my best friend from university I can say was hard to deal with but the death of someone you love with all of your heart, someone you see every day of your life, someone you have plans with. Someone who you love so deeply that the thought of not being with them physically hurts. The father of your unborn child. Now that, that is bloody horrible.

Those first few days/ weeks are a mind boggling, jumbled, hazy mess. I can quite honestly say that without the people I had round me then I wouldn’t have got through it all. You feel lost. Broken. Numb. And the only way you can survive is with the help of others.
I am blessed, a corny phrase but I am blessed.
My friends and family were amazing. They rallied and stopped their own lives to be there for me and my children and I will never forget who was there.
Then there was the minority, the friends that let me down and I can tell you that there was only one or two. But they let me down. I’m sure it wasn’t Intended and probably just their bad way of dealing with other people’s tragedy but it was disappointing none the less.

You have the friends that are selfless, days off work, no questions asked, put aside everything to be by YOUR side. They are the friends who cry with you.
You have the friends that are silently supportive. They don’t know what to say, that’s fine but they are there, they ask after you constantly and let you know they are they but they are respectful and silently hurting for you. They do what they are comfortable doing.. having the children, making tea, doing practical things.
You have the friends that are kind of relishing in your drama, I don’t blame them really it’s a drama and makes their life that little bit more exciting. They do things to help you and doesn’t everyone know it. But that’s ok because they are there too and you need them.
You have the friends that don’t know what to say so they don’t say anything. That’s not good! There was a time around two months after he died that a friend said to me ‘I’m sorry I didn’t text or call, I didn’t know what to say’. That’s probably the worst thing you can do if I’m honest. Silence is not nice.. just an acknowledgment is all you need. But that’s ok because I knew this person and knew she would be gutted for me, just not able to express it in the right way.

The worst friend, the let down friend. The one you never expected to behave like that. The one that was in your face having a go at you for being snappy. That friend was the most disappointing. The one I will never forget. The one that didn’t drop things, the one that fitted you in when she wanted not when you needed. At the time it was horrible and hurtful. In hind sight I believe she never purposely behaved in that particular way and it was just a thoughtless reaction to the situation, a situation out of her control too that she still doesn’t see the impact of. That friend is sadly no longer my friend but if something as tragic happened to her.. I’d be that distant friend on the doorstep with flowers.

That age old saying ‘treat others as you’d like to be treated yourself’ this has become my mantra.

Human compassion is just incredible. The biggest thing that I found during those first few weeks was the overwhelming reaction from everyone. People I hardly knew were contacting me. I had distant friends turning with flowers on my doorstep. I had friends I’d lost contact with and was unsure of our friend status.. pitching up showing their respect.
I had midwife university friend travel down to give me a once over to make sure the baby was doing ok. I had letters written, so many letters. It blew me away to think that people had sat down, taken time out to reach out to me. Neighbours I’d never spoken to.

You remember key things around tragic times and not all of them positive.

I think the main advice I can give anyone is to say something. Doesn’t matter what it is but say something.
Silence is lonely and it’s the reaction that gives the most effect.
Tell them it’s shit. Tell them you are sorry to hear the news. Send them an ‘X’.
Something is better than nothing

Do not make promises you can’t keep. Promising to be there for someone and then letting them down is horrible, it’s mean and it’s never forgotten.

Human behaviour is just Bizarre but endearing and necessary. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to change your own behaviour. I know I behave differently and have changed the way I treat people and situations for the better.

Julia Day-Stewart

Mum of three. Widow at 35years of age. Mother, Nurse, Realist. Broken but surviving. Lost and drowning but floating in the light of the moon. Amazed by the power of love and the strength of human compassion. I am no writer, I barely scraped past my gcses. So excuse the appalling grammar. I lost my soul mate in 2017 whilst pregnant with his first child (now aged 7 Months). One moment, one poor decision and so many lives destroyed. I decided to start a blog. Firstly to empty my head and help with my own PTSD and secondly to try and help others. Grief can be very lonely and physically destructive.

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