Two years after she died, my Mum’s death led me to re-examine what I thought I knew about faith and spirituality. I had what I call a ‘religious hangover’. My conversations with God and the resulting exploration of Christianity form this blog and, for the most, are filled with humour. No-one is more surprised than I by what unfolded. What I’ve learnt: take God seriously, not yourself.
I’m a writer, journalist, and champagne swilling PR-type. With – and I certainly didn’t expect it in my forties – a Christian faith.
On August 13, 2012 my Mum passed away, past on, past over, we lost her – oh, for goodness sake, she died.
Bravely. Simply. At peace and with dignity. I found myself wanting to record the experience and the emotions. Death is such a taboo. After a year where I experienced the gamut: judgement for not moving on quicker, support for wanting to talk about it, humour (my then 6 yo wanting to take in the urn to school for Grandparents Day) and tears that so many needed me to stop, let flow, hide (you pick), I’m now a passionate advocate of a death well-grieved. If any of my early posts on grief help anyone – no matter how minutely – my Mum would be so chuffed.
While ‘A Week In August’ began with me recording the week from when I first heard the news that Mum had but weeks to live and her death seven short days later – of which I spent three catching planes from Australia to her home in the U.K, begging immigration for passports for her grandchildren and slugging back Rescue Remedy and G&Ts in equal proportions – the blog has evolved into something far stronger and bigger.
Call it my digital dunking. Baptism by blogging. Trying to figure out what is lost in translation when it comes to getting to know G, J & HS (God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit).