A Grieving Girl's Blog

3.5 months; 109 days; 2616 hours. These are measures of the amount of time which has gone by since I saw my father take his last, slow and quiet breath.

When I see these numbers written down something doesn’t fit right in my brain – it feels like it has been so much longer, no? Or was it just yesterday? The temporality of death does not fit within the parameters of our daily measurements. It lies way beyond our grasp.

My father was diagnosed with brain cancer in October, 2019. Prior to this he was a perfectly healthy and active 60-year old brilliant researcher who had a full lifetime of enriching experiences ahead of him. Three years and one month later along with a whole myriad of different treatments (some of which were deceptively effective), he was dead. No one survives that kind of cancer, not even the person who was my rock, my hero figure, growing up.

Although I had three years to prepare myself for the possibility of his premature death in my life, nothing could prepare me for the experience of his death. As the months go on, I find myself physiologically going through so many different phases, and trying to maintain some ‘normalcy’ in my life (in a society which allows no room for grief, I will come back to this in later posts), and it has sparked so many conversations with myself on the nature of grief and how someone is able to survive this kind of situation.

Yet we do survive, and some day, we will find joy in life again.

I have continued my full-time undergraduate studies, which will *finally* be done in May, 2023. The pandemic and my father’s cancer made my academic journey an uphill battle, but I am proud to say that I have been able to make it through with excellent grades and a strong engagement with the community. 

My personal experiences, difficult as they were, motivated me to find and create more meaning in every other aspect of my life. And I could not have made it without the privilege I have had to be surrounded by so much love and support from my family, friends, and partner.

I wanted to write this short post to introduce myself because every situation of grief is different, although there are certain aspects of it – the emotions, the bodily reactions – which are shared by those experiencing grief, it is important to understand that no two stories will be the same.

My father was my best friend, the person who understood me the most in this world. The loss of his physical presence in my life is the most tortuous experience I have ever had to live – and its effects will endure, in some form or another, for the rest of my life.

But as I engage on a journey of grief, transformation, and appreciation, I hope to bring some solace to those also experiencing grief. Blog posts have also helped me feel less alone, and I want those to know who are experiencing a loss of their loved ones: you are heard, seen, loved, and understood. 

Over the coming months, and perhaps longer, I will continue to detail my experience with the grieving process, as well as write separate posts on specific topics including:

• What grief does to your body
• How to support a loved one who is grieving
• How grief affects your academic life
• How grief affects your social life
• What it is like to lose a parent in your twenties
• Journaling on grief
• Resources for grieving

My ambition is to create a community of grievers, and in the long run, accept blog submissions, create podcasts, and do more participatory things with readers from across the world. Grief is one of the most isolating experiences one can experience, especially if no one around you is dealing with a similar situation. I hope this blog will help connect people and remind us that we are not alone, that we will survive, and that one day we will be happy again.

With this, I look forward to posting more next week. 

With love,

Soline