President’s Message

It’s 5.30am and I’m about to start my morning chores on what is a cold -5 Sunday on the outskirts of Canberra.  I have often thought of moving further north, especially at this time of year – but in truth all regions and areas have their challenges and whilst it is cold, the days are crisp, clear and beautiful and remind me of what it is to be alive.

But on these cold mornings, I’m tempted to cover myself with a thick rug or quilt – which is really the focus of my message this month.  When my daughter died, a good friend (who is also a professional quilter) took her clothes and some photographs, and created two beautiful quilts for us.  Such a precious gift, that is filled with memories.  In my darkest hours, I will often just go and lie on these quilts and feel the warmth and comfort seep into my being.  They surround me with a physical memory of love. 

All too often we have a sense of our loved ones “being “ with us – but at the same time, we yearn for the physical reality of them .  The quilt is a poor substitute, but at the same time is a very real reminder of a life lived and the beauty and love contained therein – and it warms my soul and re-kindles memories for me.  The quilt surrounds me and provides that protective barrier that keeps me warm and shields me from the elements of life.   Later in the magazine I have included a couple of images of the quilts, and in doing so,  encourage you to send in  images and stories of how you keep the memories of your loved ones alive.  Perhaps in doing so, it will a prompt something for others in how they might  create concrete memories of their loved ones. Hopefully we can keep this section going to share with others what has helped along the way.  Previously we have shared photographs of gardens, cushions and many other “memory” elements.

Writing this becomes even more precarious, as my 56kg dog has woken and decided to throw herself on top of me – offering additional warmth and comfort.  Total adoration and total love.  I wonder if she knew how much I needed the warmth and strength of another sentient being, as I write this?  To be close, to be loved, to feel supported, to be reassured that I am not alone?  Isn’t this what we try to do with our involvement with TCF?  The journey of loss is such a lonely one, as each of us processes our feelings and emotions in a unique manner and whilst no-one will ever duplicate those feelings and emotions – there are common features that we all appreciate as we build our lives around our grief.

Our lives have changed, but the reality is that we go on and build our lives around our grief.  We all need a helping hand, but especially one that offers unconditional support, love and understanding.  You need not walk alone.

Hugs to all

Chris