Grieving From A Distance

On October 30, the world lost one of its greatest lights, and my brother and nephews lost the person who matters most to them in the world. Amanda was a wonderful wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend and teacher. She gave of herself fully to everyone in her life. She was kind and generous and handled all situations with grace and humour. I loved her huge laugh and gorgeous smile and always looked forward to sitting and talking with her.  These are the moments when life truly feels random and unfair.  

I still remember my brother’s face when he told me Amanda had cancer last year. I was so sad for both of them that they would have to face this awful disease together. Living so far away let me convince myself she would be fine. I didn’t see the day to day struggles, how increasingly tired and sick she was from treatment or the pain she was in. I heard about these things through my parents and sister, but it still never felt completely real. 

Despite the fact it all felt a little surreal, I still experienced a tremendous amount of guilt – there was literally nothing I could do to offer support from here. I would send messages to let them both know I was thinking of them, but that felt so insufficient. I was also conscious of not invading their privacy. In choosing to leave the family circle to live across the world, I guess a part of me felt like I no longer had the right to be in the loop. When was it a good time to call? How often was appropriate? None of it ever felt right and it always felt intrusive. 

When someone is ill and when that person dies, I think there is a lot of healing in sharing memories with others, in being able to honour that person with the ritual goodbye that takes place at a funeral, and in sharing your grief with people who knew and loved them.  I haven’t been able to do that so I guess that’s why I felt I needed to write my feelings down. While I feel completely heartbroken and sick for my brother and nephews, it hasn’t fully sunk in yet that she’s gone. Perhaps putting this all in writing is my way of feeling a little less disconnected from it all. 

It’s a strange feeling to grieve in isolation. Life here goes on and no one here has any idea that the world has lost one of its kindest souls, and so while life has been turned upside down for my brother and family, we are also just going on. There is a lot of guilt in that…that we are somehow cheating and evading the process of grief while the people we love so much are feeling it so deeply. But we are also missing the opportunity to fully celebrate the amazing woman Amanda was. 

One of Amanda’s greatest passions in life was teaching. While fighting cancer, she continued to teach by trying to educate women about the early signs of cervical cancer. To honour Amanda, I am posting the signs here:

• Blood spots or light bleeding between or following periods
• Menstrual bleeding that is longer and heavier than usual
• Bleeding after intercourse, douching, or a pelvic examination
• Increased vaginal discharge
• Pain during sexual intercourse
• Bleeding after menopause
• Unexplained, persistent pelvic and/or back pain

Sadly, in Ontario, the government has decided that yearly cervical examinations are not necessary and are now only supporting exams once every 3 years. However, In Australia, it’s once every five years. Please don’t wait that long! Amanda went from having a clear test in December to having a tumour of 5.5cm just 9 months later. In Canada, the test is only $100 (and about $75 in Australia) and it could save your life. 

Amanda, we love you and will keep you close to heart always.