Grief.

  In the first term of my second year at university, two members of my family died. Grief can be defined as 'deep mental anguish.' It's one thing to know what it means but going through it is another kettle of fish.

  My aunt died when I was five and I lost an uncle at the age of nine but at those ages, I was too young to fully understand the meaning of death. When my Mum broke the news to me earlier this week about the deaths in the family, I tried not to think about them too much. Instead, I threw myself into work and my various responsibilities, overworking myself to an extent. This is denial, stage one of the five stages of grief. I realise now that I was trying to run away from dealing with the issues and my feelings. This was a really bad idea. At the end of the week, all the feelings that I'd been trying to suppress and ignore came crashing down on me on my day off and I was completely taken aback, unsure of how to react.

  I felt guilty, sad, and ashamed that I was having fun, when my family was going through so much. I ended up leaving the club alone and nearly hysterical, bawling on the phone to my sister on my way back to college. I now know that this was depression, the fourth stage in the five stages of grief. After lots of crying and Bible reading, I eventually reached stage five, which is acceptance.

  Dealing with grief is very difficult. Even though I've accepted the deaths now, the littlest things can set me off, from looking at a postcard to reading a book. (Simone de Beauvoir's 'Une mort très douce' is heartbreakingly poignant but perhaps not the best book to read when you're upset about a death...). Everyone deals with grief in different ways as we all cope in different ways. What keeps me going is the fact that God has a plan in everything and that my lost relatives are with Him. Rest in peace, uncles.