Before I went to A Caring Hand I didn’t think I needed any help. I was fifteen and wasn’t sure talking about it would help. I figured that missing my mother and the feelings of emptiness and confusion would fade with time. At the time, I didn’t understand that grief was something that would stay with me forever and, while it wouldn’t always hurt as much, my mother’s death would always be a part of me.
When I did start attending sessions at A Caring Hand, I didn’t really notice a change. I liked going, I liked being able to talk about my mom, sharing pictures and stories; I liked the way it brought me and my dad together. But it wasn’t until afterwards, when I had completed my sessions, that I realized what an impact A Caring Hand had on me.
I came to realize that talking about my mom really felt good, that acknowledging the difficult moments and days was comforting and that there were so many people who felt the same way I did. I had always been wary of making other people uncomfortable when I talked about my mom but A Caring Hand gave me the space to remember her and decide how I wanted to keep her alive and present in my life.
Ever since my time at A Caring Hand I always encourage people to talk about what makes them sad. I think verbalizing your feelings is especially important when it’s about something as confusing as death. Without A Caring Hand I don’t know when I would have come to that realization.