From Grief to Nutrition Coaching - (How caring for my family helped me find a new path)

When Mum was growing weaker (She had breast cancer which spread into her arm, then her bones and her liver) I never once thought ‘My Mum is dying’. Even the final 10 days of her life, which were spent in her bedroom – this thought of ‘dying’ didn’t enter my mind. I was so focused on Mum’s soul moving from this world to the spiritual worlds of God, that I saw it as a birth rather than a death.

I wrote some thoughts on the experience of losing my Mum (Rita Bartlett), back in 2016:

'On the 11th December it will be three years since my Mum passed into the next world and I’ve been thinking about death, the next world, life, grief, loss, detachment, acceptance, the interconnection between this world and the next and other related thoughts a lot since then.

I remember I cried a lot when I wasn’t assisting Dad to care for her. It was painful and shocking to think of her not being with us physically anymore, but my mind was focused on living day to day. I was surviving the worst thing that I could imagine happening. In those final days we spent our time hour by hour thinking of Mum's needs. I also felt excited for her, hopeful for a release from her diseased body, excited for her soul to experience the spiritual worlds of God and to meet her parents and other loved ones again! I remember feeling full-up (from head to toe) with love for my Mum – almost obsessed with love for her. I felt Dad and I were her spiritual mid-wives ushering her gently into the next world. Later, I felt wave after wave of loss flow through me, something that has only recently grown calmer.'

Viv, Fleur, Rita and Ramin circa 2007

Coincidentally, it's now nearly 3 years since Dad's passing on 26th November (and nearly 12 years since Mum's passing). The grief I experienced when Dad died was similar in its devastation. But more all-encompassing. I had lost them both. I do feel calmer now, after having ridden similar waves these past 3 years - but my sense of loss was so strong that I sometimes felt I could never find my way back to living a happy life again.

Yet I am healing, and I see signs that confirm this. I no longer have a heavy feeling of dread when I wake up in the morning. I can look at photos and feel love rather than pain.

I spent a lot of time with Dad in the nine years after Mum passed, which was an honour and a blessing, but in the final year of his life, I think I almost lost myself. It was a coping mechanism. Mum's passing had left me feeling abandoned, angry; the world was now just wrong. Caring for Dad was love. I could show my love to him, and by doing so, also to Mum.

When Dad passed into the next world, I felt relieved for him, and happy he was now reunited with Mum but I didn't really know who I was anymore. I couldn't show my parents love through action any more and I felt I had lost the meaning of my own life. I thank Ramin for his patience, understanding and deep empathy all during those sad times. And my cats! O Ramin and my cats were Kintsugi! Gently glueing the broken, fragile porcelain pieces of my heart back together with human care and golden purrs.

Xixi and I - heartbeat and purrs combined

For more than two years, I was unable to sing prayers or songs with others without crying. Singing is a core aspect of my identity and family background. My dad, a rock 'n' roll guitarist, was the first to encourage Leila and me to sing. He taught us how to harmonize, feel the rhythm, and add energy to a piece of music, something he called 'oomph!'.

I did discover a way I could hold onto music to help me work through my feelings. And I am able to sing without crying now. To read more about this, please read my blog post 'Music and Healing Grief' here (coming soon!).

The only time I managed to more or less forget about my sadness was when we watched gaudy, loud and sparkly TV such as 'Strictly Come Dancing' and when we listened to the Indie rock band Nothing But Thieves (Ramin and I also went to see them three times!) in the car (LOUD!).

But there was one song called 'Free if you want it' which I still can't really listen to because it brings me back to those moments of listening to this song while driving to the hospital during the weeks before his passing and gearing myself up to see Dad so physically weakened, the reality of how unwell he was. The lyrics spoke to Dad's soon-to-be release from this world and my freedom (something I wanted and didn't want at the same time) from the physical and emotional intensity of caring for him, 'Yeah, we can be free if we want it... Don't look back, keep going, don't look back'. Another Nothing But Thieves song 'Overcome' was very healing for me;

"I've been thinking babe maybe you're right, when you said the pain weathers in time and we're just waiting for a change to follow. We don't always get all that we want, redefine the pain to something more. And we shall overcome as we did before"

These lyrics helped me hold on to hope. I would overcome this deep grief, would find a way forward to live with happiness again.

I wasn't able to save my Dad, the operation (which caused him so much discomfort for months) had been pointless, an operation which was meant to have prevented his decline, rather than speed it up. That familiar feeling of grief mixed with anger came back and sometimes (usually late at night) I felt unable to comprehend how my life could go on without Dad. My parents had both become spiritual warriors when they became Baha'is. They were revolutionaries who brought myself and my siblings up to love God, love people and fight for justice. I wasn't just my Dad's daughter and carer during that final year of his life, I was his spiritual co-worker. My brother Kalim, Ramin, Dad and I consulted, planned and hosted weekly online meetings during Covid times, one week a devotional (prayers, uplifting readings and music) and the next week a 'Meaningful Conversation' joined by between five - twenty friends, neighbours and contacts on subjects such as, 'Learning to be grateful in times of crisis', 'Positive and Negative Forces', 'Oneness of Mankind' and 'Spiritual Nurturing of Children' among many others. This led into a study circle with four friends, Book One of the Ruhi studies, 'Reflections on the life of the spirit'. We were building a community together in the valleys. Our online meetings were a service that we did in my Mum's name - to help the progress of her soul. This was a place where everyone involved felt seen, loved and appreciated and everyone was encouraged to speak up, to find their voice. I didn't know who I was going to continue giving energy to this after Dad passed.

But I did find my way back and the study circle has continued through the years and has now started Book Six, a space where we often call my Dad and his wisdom to mind.

Through packing up and selling the family home, Ramin and I are having adventures and appreciating a new kind of freedom, especially from illness, and I began to feel my emotions settling. But then I had no idea what I was going to do with my life!

I dreamed a dream

Then I had a dream, that I was walking down the road in a village near us called Fleur-de-Lys (Yes Fleur!). I saw my Mum walking on the other side of the road with my Nana; and myself and my sister, Leila as children, around age 7 and 9. Excited, I went over to them and walked next to the little group. Mum asked me if I wanted to read my book, and I said 'Yes please!' and she handed me a copy of my published book entitled 'Grief, Love and Laughter' - I was surprised as I didn't think I was going to give the book I'm working on that title. I was so happy to have the finished book, and I woke up thinking how Mum was telling me a few things in this dream, namely that:

• My Mum's soul is walking alongside me in her life - and we are her children (always)

• Nana is doing the same ( I often dream of her)

• My book, in the spiritual world, is already written

• I am being encouraged to finish writing it

• I am being encouraged to write about grief, love and laughter as well as marriage and MS

You might think it a little strange to take advice from a dream, but these kinds of dreams feel very real and I see them as messages from the next world. I also feel dreams like these are so comforting and remind me that my loved ones are always nearby and interested in my projects - encouraging me to keep going! So this blog post is a first stab at writing about grief - not just the grief of losing my Mum, but grief in general. Your feedback will help me in shaping a book on Grief - what is your experience? What has helped you?

My Nana (Esther Bridge - my Mum's Mum) in her home in Ely and myself around 4 years old (1976)

Learning to be curious - to find my next steps

In a conversation (in real life) with my sister, Leila I shared with her how grief was weighing heavily on me and I felt an emptiness I couldn't shift. She said that I could find a new sense of purpose if I was open to it. She encouraged me to look out for what was making me feel curious.

It wasn't long until I realised a new and interesting path for me would be to officially study Nutrition - as I had read so many books in the comfort of my bed (like other people read novels!) and I've never been shy to give nutritional advice to family and friends.

I searched for Nutrition courses and discovered one that was scientifically supported, clearly outlined in its prospectus, and offered the knowledge I was eager to gain on gut health and overall digestion, weight loss and blood sugar balance, stress, and sleep. I started the course in March 2023, dedicating 10 or more hours a week to studying and successfully passing all my modules! I have always been interested in understanding what happens when we eat, about vitamins and nutrients, how food choices can aid the body in healing, or how they can harm it. This was the ideal path for me.

In April 2024, I graduated with a diploma as a Nutrition Advisor from the Natural Healthcare College, and when I can afford it, I hope to continue my studies to become a Naturopath Nutritional Therapist!

Discovering a new focus truly aided me in moving past the heartbreak of grief. I began assisting others and gradually started to regain my sense of self. Over time, through prayer (such as the one below that I say frequently for my parents), my emotions are no longer flying around a room like a trapped bird. My heart is mending, supported by loved ones, music, joyful media, prayers, and the connection I feel with my family and friends. Discussing my grief with others has been so beneficial. I am listening to related podcasts, reading poems, taking time to reflect and write and thinking about my dreams, so many lovely dreams where I hear choirs and orchestras of music and brilliant light, colourful joyful feelings and connection.

If you've experienced grief (as many of us have), what have you found beneficial on your journey to stay present with your emotions without being overwhelmed by them? I would love to hear your stories, so please share this blog post if you feel this is helpful.

Here are some simple ideas that you could find helpful as you learn to process your feelings of the loss of a loved one:

• Write down thoughts and feelings for 10 minutes a day in a notebook - emotions and responses shift over time, and it can be helpful to look back and read where you were and see how far you've come.

• Is there a fun, trashy TV programme you enjoy that helps you switch off ruminating thoughts? I remember my Mum used to laugh her head off at 'Mrs Brown's Boys' and 'Benidorm' when she was going through Cancer. Ramin also watched so many comedies during his MS recovery - all he wanted to do was laugh and feel uplifted when watching TV.

• Talk to a friend or family member about their experience of grief, how does it affect them? What have they found helpful?

• What music and song-lyrics is your heart drawn to? Sometimes music can help us express our inner condition and process feelings.

• Is there an act of service you can do in your loved one's name? Can you call them to mind and ask them to help you?

All the love, always

Fleur

A Baha'i prayer I often say for my parents

Mum and Dad (Rita and Vivian Bartlett)

Thank you to Arlette Manasseh who helped me shape this blog post - her encouragement and practical assistance is deeply appreciated.