It’s taken me a long time to feel confident saying that. It’s taken me a long time to embrace myself. My journey started ten years ago with the sudden death of my younger brother, Peter. Now most people hearing this say, “I’m sorry.” Well let me tell you something. I’m not. My brother dying was the best thing that ever happened to me.
His death forced me to look at myself and my life and see just how much of it I was wasting. It forced me to turn and truly confront the childhood demons I’d been running from by hiding in drugs and alcohol. It forced me to take responsibility for my life.
His death inspired me to set up and run a charity for young adults affected by bereavement for six years. It inspired me to shut that down and move to Spain to teach English. It inspired me to leave that job when it was no longer fulfilling and retrain to become a coach (now an Associate Certified Coach with International Coach Federation). It inspired me to work with clients all over the world – on my terms – travel-living where ever I wanted whenever I wanted.
His death encouraged me to start my PhD in Applied Ecopsychology and Coaching. It encouraged me to create the Tree of Transformation, a seven-step process that enables people to experience profound transformation. It encouraged me to leave Spain and return home just to be closer to my niece and elderly grandparents. It encouraged me to write and publish a book: Thriving Loss: Move beyond grief to a place of peace passion and purpose. And then it encouraged me to move back to Spain again!
To regret his death means that I regret all of that. And I don’t. Not. One. Little. bit.
At first when a loved one dies there is so much to do with registering the death, organising the funeral and letting people know that it keeps us busy. We really don’t have time to think about the implications of what has actually happened.
It’s only after the funeral that it really hits home. All of sudden we really notice that there is a huge big gap within our lives.
What happens next?