In death we need to talk about wellness. The death of a parent is a traumatic event, and it puts an indelible marker onto life’s timeline. The process of death is an unavoidable part of life, yet we rarely discuss it because it brings up feelings of fear, anxiety, sadness, and ultimately changes some of our relationships. In my experience, when a loved one dies we are unprepared, grief is an unknown personal journey and we all navigate through it differently.
“He simply wanted to get on with life”
When my father was 83 when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer in August last year, he didn’t want to know the prognosis or the anticipated time he had left. He simply wanted to get on with life, and as a family, we supported his choice. I applauded his bold approach, to me it made sense and felt right, after all I am my father’s daughter. On 19th June, he was taken into hospital, kept pain-free and comfortable in a quiet, private room on the ward. We knew this trip to hospital was never going to offer any hope, and each day we watched and listened for changes, and slowly they appeared. On the sixth day in hospital, late afternoon, my father peacefully passed away with me, my mother and sister by his side.
“We never spoke about death, we just got on with living.”
I consider myself fortunate to have spent time with my father, and was able to travel down to Fife to see him as often as possible during his last 10 months. We never spoke about death, we just got on with living. I wouldn’t say we carried on as normal because birthday celebrations, Christmas day lunch, and Fathers’ day were subtly wrapped in knowing they were likely to be the last with him present. My father phoned on an almost daily basis, and had an active interest in everything countryside. As a family, we were brought up on a countryside diet of fresh air, gundogs, shoot days and mad ponies. My first shoot days and fishing trips were with my father, and my early teenage years were spent beating on local shooting estates where he picked up with the dogs, or out pigeons shooting on Saturday afternoons. His commitment to our outdoors upbringing is a testament to my countryside interests and working life today.
In my professional life, I photograph, write and talk about countryside activities including deer stalking, fishing, rural lifestyles and employment, the outdoors, wellness and wildlife. Living on a stalking estate; life and work often meld together beautifully. Latterly, my father’s mobility was restrictive so during phone calls he loved to hear about the bag on a grouse day when my partner, Richard, worked on his bosses’ grouse estate in August or the highlights from a September day’s stag stalking. He never lost touch.
“I wanted to live well through grief”
People often talk about wellness, I did so in a recent episode with the wonderful Women in Wellies podcast (you can listen to it here). Suddenly, my wellness snapped into focus, and I wanted to live well through grief. In less than 24 hours after my father had died, I made the decision to cancel work commitments scheduled for later that week: my book launch, and hosting an event at the Scottish Game Fair. In making my wellness a priority I was able to support my 84 year old mother.
Wellness needs to be prioritised for everyone experiencing a bereavement, but to do this, we need to talk about it and make it part of our lives. I could have carried on and struggled through grief, and in years to come the memories of my father’s death would be marred by guilt and stress because I didn’t put my wellness first.
