My name is Caroline and I would like to share part of my grieving journey, following the untimely loss of my parents.

Mum was a very loving, caring, proud and independent lady who enjoyed life. She was diagnosed with cancer on 24^th February 2021. A day I will never forget and a diagnosis which pulled the rug from under the feet of everyone in our family. Mum just never got ill. My heart was breaking, I was struggling to come to terms with the diagnosis but knew I had to remain focused and in control. It was decided that together, my brother and I would look after both our mum and dad and importantly, to respect and follow my mum's wish, to be looked after in her own home. I promised my mum that I would look after her until the end and that I would continue to look after my dad, until he decided to join her, whenever that was to be.

Dad was in poor health himself and relied upon my mum immensely - they had been together for over 60 years and his world had just fallen apart. Mum was never expected to leave him behind, it was always assumed he would lead the way.

Mum passed away a few weeks following the diagnosis and Dad came to live with me and my family. He was a broken man with a broken heart. Dad followed Mum just a couple of months later, dying in hospital. Covid restrictions meant he died alone.

The following few months passed in a blur. I purposely kept myself occupied, looking after my family and grandchildren, while at the same time getting Mum and dads house and affairs sorted. Once my parents' home had been sold, it suddenly dawned on me that I would see neither of them again. WOW, that hit home hard.

Reality had hit. Life was grey with no purpose. I was numb and had barely shed a tear since losing my parents, I physically couldn't motivate myself. My heart and body ached, my head hurt, and I just couldn't be bothered with anything or anyone, everything was such a huge effort. My heart and my body had broken and other than my husband, the only people I wanted to talk to about it, to ask for comfort were no longer here. I realised I needed help to fix things, to fix me. At that moment in time on a scale of 1 to 10, I was sitting at the lowest end, position 1.

For me, bereavement counselling has been and is continuing to be a long and difficult journey. A journey that is driven by me and my needs, a safe space where I can share personal feelings and experiences with a person who shows a great amount of empathy, understanding and patience. It is a recovery process filled with ups and downs, with laughter and with the tears that can now come. I can ruminate to my heart's content with someone who I feel wants to listen and not has to listen. I have felt so vulnerable and thought I was regressing at times but making sense of the circumstances and guilt surrounding the loss, will give me the strength to look to the future. Now, on a scale of 1 to 10, I am currently hovering around a 6/7 - a great achievement but still a work in progress.

My dragonflies will be displayed proudly in our garden, next to the magnolia tree which we planted in memory of my parents. My grandchildren will love the dragonflies which will be a focal point for conversation and my parents will live in our hearts and memories forever.

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