OK LET'S GO THERE

I haven't blogged (publicly) for a while as my head and thoughts have 

been elsewhere. Commenting on the latest Jordan v Kerry has seemed a 

bit trivial over the last month. I have questioned and re-questioned 

whether or not I should use the blog to talk about what's been going 

on in my life. After all, if I met George Michael in a toilet with a 

bag of crack it would probably be on my blog before you could hear the 

police sirens. But since the first of September (now to be known in my 

head as a personal 9/1) my thoughts have remained private.

I've actually written loads. Pages and pages of free association, 

analysis and reflection. It's been a helpful process to regain some 

order in a chaotic brain. But now, almost a month on, I feel like it's 

time to go public. To 'come out' and say hello my name is Paul and I'm 

a demi-orphan.

When I found out on 9/1 that my Mum had died, the world went into slow 

motion and all I could hear was my heart beating loudly in both ears. 

In the short time between now and then, much has happened. The beating 

is sometimes still there, loud and distracting, but it is slowly being 

replaced by a sense of calmness and reflection.

I don't know why it works like this, but losing a parent has made me 

feel really grown up. When I was 17, I left Aberdeen for the bright 

lights of London. In the years that passed I thought I had become an 

adult, but it was only when I left Aberdeen again 17 years later, 

following my Mum's funeral, that I felt I was a man. I know that us 

men tend to stay in our childhoods for most of our lives, so I can 

take a bit of comfort in knowing that the little me is still in there!

I'm not suggesting for a second that my blog is going to turn into 

some depressing confessional, but recently I've been wishing that 

someone could just give me a manual on how to feel and what's on the 

horizon. Maybe by sharing some of my own experiences I can start 

writing that manual.

My tip for today actually came from a discussion I had with a GP at a 

conference yesterday. I had never met him and probably never will 

again, but for some reason he said something which felt really 

profound and meaningful. He was talking about the best way to deal 

with various types of patients and out of the blue picked the example 

of someone who is grieving and struggling with it. He said that while 

those patients often feel like they are being sucked down into a black 

hole, he finds it helpful to rather describe it as being in a tunnel 

where the light at the end is a bit distant and hard to see. Writing 

it down makes it sound a bit trite, but it helped me to understand 

that this is a process. A journey, not a destination. I've only just 

come to the realization that loss isn't like flu. I'm not going to 

wake up one morning cured of these feelings. It's more of a long term 

condition that has to be managed so that it doesn't impact too much on 

your daily life.

Anyway, now that's out of the way I can start getting back to 

celebrity gossip. We all need a bit of light relief between the 

profound moments.