grief as with life - feel it, keep moving forward and open a new perspective

My uncle passed away a week ago today and the days that followed took on a glaze of numbness, with at least a handful of moments per day remembering his antics which end up in me losing my composure and crying as children often do, trying to catch their breath between heart wrenching moments of overwhelm.

Grief is a hell of a thing and I am being schooled in how to allow it and at the same time manage my life between visits.

I have had the fortune in this life of having really great men as my uncles and JT (John Taylor) was the last of these men to leave this physical world.

We were close but got much closer in the past two decades. How he lived his life rather than his advice modeled for me qualities I chose and continue to nurture within myself - his chasing of adventure, his trust in himself, his kindness, his ferocity of belief and his sense of humor - all his own. He seemed to balance these aspects within himself effortlessly.

Like all of us humans, he wasn't perfect but he chose how he responded to life and right or wrong, his sense of justice, his care for those he loved and the beauty of his stubborn loyalty to life on his terms stood proud in who he was and will be for me… always.

His life was littered with cancer, his first diagnosis two decades back and his more recent, the one which took him (or so it feels) 7 years ago. He lost his wife (my aunt) in between those diagnoses, his sister (my mum) survived her journey and I did mine as well as my cousin and father.

My diagnosis was a turning point in our relationship and it seemed to connect us deeper than most and started our regular chats and check-ins to update one another on our respective adventures. It seemed that through difficulty we galvanized our relationship, which on reflection, it now seems like he mentored me on how to use adversity to strengthen my life.

John faced his mortality more times than anyone else I have ever met with a mind so stubbornly strong that most of us knew that he would choose his last breath on his terms - it would never be “by chance”.

On one of these occasions, with our entire family together to celebrate my Aunts 70th, he had a complication from a recent and rather miraculous surgery. On route to the hospital from a holiday village he told me later that in one moment, as Dave and I drove like lunatics to the hospital, he knew that if he took another breath, he would make it and if he didn’t he would pass over to the other side.

He took the breath, as he chose to and on his terms, as he always did! And in so doing modeled for me and all those who knew him what the mind and human will are capable of! He did this A LOT ;-)

When I was about 8 years old my dad, him and his loyal jack russell and I drove on a really dodgy washed out road from Umtata to Mngazana (one of the families wild coast holiday spots).

He put his foot down flat and just steered across deep trenches, through the bush and over narrow ridges for a half hour as my dad nervously told him off and the jack russell and I got motion sickness (and threw up) in the back of the little red Suzuki Jimney. Seat belts were not big for passengers back then ;-)

It's how he lived his life and on reflection I should have seen him clearer back then. The lesson I drew from that - no matter the difficulty you face keep moving forward, you will figure it out when you need to!

One nugget he gave which has inspired so many important decisions in my life, happened on a golf course. I don't appreciate the game of golf but I love my father and uncle so we played a round when I was around 21 years old.

My dad and uncles have a way of “guiding” us cousins with helpful and mostly unsolicited advice ;-) This happens particularly when braaing and on a golf course.

I got to one of the golf tee’s and set up my ball and then paused at my golf bag. Dad was first to notice and chirp… “take your five iron son, so you can make sure you are on the fairway”.

JT - “take that one wood of yours and hit the shit out of it, and if you have to go into the bush, then you go find it in the bush”.

His advice when I asked if I should buy a house was “bite off more than you can chew and chew it” ;-)

It was ironic and a beautiful moment when I took on ultra trail running a few years back and after completing a recent 100km trail run, he said to me “you are hurting your body now, you must stop this running distance thing of yours. You going to damage your knees - its not good for you”.

I laughed instinctively and explained to him the runs were really about breaking glass ceilings in one part of my life and then testing other parts. And that I loved working through the difficult parts particularly (plus I took really good care of my body in training).

“You are being very stubborn Brett”

I reminded him of 5 examples when he did the exact same thing. One being when he bought another Harley Davidson in his 60’s after writing the first one off and his sisters giving him a real gears about being irresponsible! ;-)

He just just giggled. But I wanted to drive it home so I left him with ;-) - “I wonder where I got that from?”

He was also the most irritatingly thrifty shoppers, buying two day old bread because it was half the price, but when it came to helping out the people he loved, he would give you the shirt off his back and money you needed and make you swear not to tell anyone in the family ;-)

Sorry JT, but we all knew your heart and generosity. You didn't hide it as well as you thought you did ;-)

This grief thing is a hellova thing, but as some kind and wise human said to me today…

“the pain in your grief is as deep as the love that you were privileged in having, most people will never know that kind of love within their lifetime - so don't wish it away. Hold it as sacred and thank God for it”

… I find that painfully comforting.

I love you boet, I miss your calls already ;-)