Leigh Van Der Horst - Without My Mum: A Daughters Guide to Grief, Loss and Reclaiming Life

Published by Nero,

an imprint of Schwartz Publishing Pty Ltd

Level 1, 221 Drummond Street

Carlton VIC 3053, Australia

www.nerobooks.com.au

Copyright Leigh Van Der Horst 2016

This edition published in 2017

Leigh Van Der Horst asserts her right to be known as the author of this work.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior consent of the publishers.

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:

Van Der Horst, Leigh, author.

Without my mum : a daughters guide to grief, loss and reclaiming life / Leigh Van Der Horst.

9781863959278 (paperback)

9781925203998 (ebook)

Van Der Horst, Leigh.

MothersDeathAnecdotes.

BereavementAustralia.

Mothers and daughtersAustralia.

155.9370852

Cover design by Tristan Main

Interior artwork by Sarah Lord

www.etsy.com/people/sarahlordpapercuts

Text design & typesetting by Vivid.

This book is dedicated to
all of the beautiful mothers
who are no longer with us.

May we always feel their warmth
and encouragement in our hearts.

Foreword

Stories animate the human experience. They provide opportunities for self-reflection and connection. When we walk together with the grief that comes with losing a loved one, hearing from others who have travelled along that same path can transform the way we sit with loss.

Stories and grief have long been a part of my professional and personal world. I have spent the last decade supporting people through counseling speaking to groups of people raw with the sadness of catastrophic loss and then writing those stories for others to share. Through my work, I have come to acknowledge that in griefas in lifethere is no rulebook. There are no hierarchies or typical responses when it comes to grief. The reactions of those who are grief-stricken cannot be predicted or planned for. Our life continues on and the sadness becomes part of that action of moving forward.

The way we live our lives cannot be a dress rehearsal for the grief we might endure. Our connection with the person who is no longer here speaks to how much their life impacted the way we continue on with our own after they are gone.

Leigh Van Der Horst embraces the idea that to share the stories of what we endure allows us to be both vulnerable and brave in giving words to the depth of emotion experienced. The stories we tell of our losses can connect people in ways many may not have ever imagined. I had the privilege of speaking to Leigh through the power of social media and the intimacy of Skype. We connected about our shared passion for truthful narratives on life and loss. She shared with me her ideas of living a rich and meaningful life post-loss. How the death of her lovely mum made her turn inwards to explore how grief can change a personand how that experience continues to touch the way she lives her life as a woman, a partner and a mum.

Grief is not a linear process. There are no stages to be endured or actions to complete as a way of successfully navigating the feeling that follows. Grief stays with people forever, but the sensationthe triggersthat come with a waft of perfume, a song on the radio or even a Mothers Day flower can pull people back into the grief space until they resurface ready to face the world again. And people do face the world againin their own time, in their own ways.

We live in a world where the concept of complicated or prolonged mourning is seen as an illness. We pathologise the grieving process by seeking ways to label the emotions that we all experience when a loved one is gone. Emotions that are normal, that are valid. There is no right way to grieve. It is impossible to predict how we might react when tragedy strikes, but the power of sharing storieslike the stories that sit within this bookcreate virtual connections that can help people stop and think me too when the words of another resonate deeply.

Leighs journalled reflections of rebuilding her life after the loss of her mum, worldwide contributions by other women on that same path of loss and growth, the last section of hopeful reflections on the mothering journey and all points in betweenthis book as a whole reminds me that there is something undeniably inspiring about other peoples stories. It is comforting to know that life goes on and that in the midst of trauma and sadness, new truths can be learned about who we are and how we cope.

The power of words is a wonderful thing. I hope you enjoy this book for the message of hope it offers and for the virtual rub on the back it gives to those who might need one.

Enjoy.

Sarah Wayland, PhD

Grief researcher and Counsellor

www.sarahwayland.com.au

Grief contacts

Lifeline Australia

13 11 14

www.lifeline.org.au

Grief Line Australia

1300 845 745

www.griefline.org.au

Mensline Australia

1300 78 99 78

www.mensline.org.au

As I turned the corner, I suddenly found myself walking behind two men pushing a trolley with an empty body bag on it. It was such a long walk down the white, sterile corridor towards room 17. I didnt think much of the body bag. It was a common sight sadly and I was running on autopilotI had been for a while. The past week had seen such a decline. Finally I reached her room. There she was. My beautiful mum. Her blankets pulled up to her chin. She must have been getting cold now. The end was near. She looked so peaceful. As I quietly tiptoed in, I breathed in the abundant scent of freshly cut flowers. By now, one would be forgiven for thinking mums room was a florist shop! She loved flowers and they certainly did cheer up the otherwise morbid impression of her environment. She opened her eyes, so happy to see me. Hi love, she said with her big, beaming smile. She was all teeth. Cancer had stolen so much from her. Hi Mum, I saidbarely unable to make eye contact with her for fear of cryingHow are you today?. She looked gaunt, literally skin and bone. I leant over and gave her a kiss then pulled a chair up nice and close to her and got comfortable. The rest of my day belonged to my Mum. Time was precious. I knew we were going to part soon. I had accepted that I could not change it. I could not cure her. The time to say goodbye forever was drawing near

Introduction

I grew up like most lucky Australian girls. I had a loving family, nice (and sometimes not-so-nice) friends, interests in boys, horses, sports, more boys! In my very early years, I revelled in my dads practical jokes. He was the master! I would come home from school sometimes to an elaborate set up. Dad would involve my dolls in some sort of scenario, often depicting that they had been up to no good. His stories were too funny. He must have devoted a lot of time to setting up various scenes and sometimesonly once or twicehe nearly had me fooled. He could be very convincing when he wanted to be. My dad was the fun guy and my mum was the strict one. Whatever she said was final! Mum was fun too but it seemed that, early on, the roles were set and thats just the way it went. Its funnyas I became older, I looked up to my mum so much more for approval and praiseshe was a tough cookie. Even at a young age, my mums wellbeing was of upmost importance to me. I would always ask her if she was OK. This concern of mine continued right up until her last breath. In fact, even now without her here, I still worry if she is OK.