New Year, new attitude.
Last year was weird, for all of us, I know. Personally, I felt like I was burrowing further and further down into myself and drifting further and further from everyone I know. As if I’d wrapped my grief and sadness around me and then, cocooned, been caught on the breeze, and landed alone, adrift, mid-ocean.
Well, I’ve poked a hole in the cocoon now. More than that, I’ve carved half of it away and turned it into a canoe and am paddling to the shore which, it turns out, wasn’t as far away as I thought. And on the beach, there are all my friends, waving, smiling, and welcoming me back, throwing out lifelines to pull me home.
I cannot change what has happened to Dan. I will always be griefstruck, and sad. But I can also be happy, and curious, and determined and energised and forward-looking. Dan will always be with me, just one thought away.
When I spoke at his memorial back in June 2018, I encouraged everyone, his teenage friends in particular, to follow their dreams, seize the day, squeeze the most out of life. I’m taking some of my own advice, which is really Dan’s advice. I am tackling 2022 with vigour. Last year I felt that I. Could. Not. Be. Arsed because everything felt heavy and mournful and exhausting. This year I will Be. Arsed. I will seek to share Dan’s story, work hard, see friends, celebrate life. I imagine this will involve indecent amounts of effort, which in turn will incur significant amounts of complaining and swearing and will require me to do some stuff I hate (exercise for a start) to make sure I have the physical and mental stamina to pursue my ambitions, but what else is there to do?
I’m using some of Dan’s never-ending energy and positivity to keep me going, of course. I’m going to harness his enthusiasm and restlessness and use it to sustain me, no matter what this year brings. I am going to make the bloody most of it. Which is why I’m at my desk at 6.30am, gigantic mug of tea to hand, ready for the return to work.
2022, let’s be having you.
Midowed 
A smashing start to my day, thanks Debbie
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Cheers Pete, have a good one!
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Good on you. And beautifully written.
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Thank you, Amanda! X
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Last year was a year when a lot of us couldn’t be arsed. I can only imagine how much more so it was for you. Being forced to isolate at a time when we most need other people around us is hard. New year, new attitude is good-but leave yourself time for self care and keep the cocoon to snuggle up in occasionally!
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I will, but I am also trying not to give myself too much wriggle room, or my resolve will crumble! Take care, Ros X
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Beautifully written. Xx
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Thank you hon X
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Thanks, Debbie. My cousin lost her son when he was 21. I have forwarded a link to this blog to her. I have always been amazed at her courage and persistence. She just lost her husband last year. I think this blog will resonate with her on so many levels. I look forward to reading it, and to getting to know Dan, better.
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Oh Trica I’m so sorry about your cousin’s loss. Thank you for following my blog, and I hope your cousin finds something helpful in it X
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Yey you got this be arsed girly. Dan is brimming from ear to ear cheering you on xx
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Thanks, Tracey! X
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It’s really quite emotional seeing you cope with something which I suspect many people would find unimaginable.
Great bit of writing and great advice. Xx
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Thank you, Mark.
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I think you have had every reason not to be arsed but Dan would be very proud of you TO be arsed in 2022! So go smash it and do your son proud❤️
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Thank you, Amanda!
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Yup, its nice to have you back on the shore. But at your desk for 6.30am? Behave! X
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Ha! I’m an early bird…
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