When you spend your working life immersed in news and current affairs, you can sometimes feel the world is full of unkind people who thrive on unpleasant words and actions. It can seem that those who shout the loudest don’t use their words and power for good, or for the betterment of humanity, despite their protestations to the contrary.
As children, we are told this is unacceptable and selfish behaviour. But when we reach adulthood, for some reason it’s fine. I often find myself looking at global events and how individuals act and wondering: if we were all just kinder to each other, and thought as much about others as we do about ourselves, how different would our world be?
It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times over the past few weeks as I dealt with the shock of losing my father to suicide. It was a shock that I still can’t find the words to describe. My body and my mind haven’t really accepted what has happened, and it will probably be some time before I am able express how I feel or the impact on our family. But what I can share is how much the outpouring of kindness from those near and far has helped my family navigate this collision course.
Those first few days are a blur in so many ways, but I know that is my brain’s way of protecting me. It is keeping some memories out of focus until I’m strong enough to see them properly, while allowing me to remember the parts that made me feel safe and loved.
Family were there straight away, followed by our oldest friends, who arrived at my aunt’s house within hours of us calling to explain that my dad was gone. With them they brought a constant stream of freshly cooked food, drinks, snacks and alcohol, knowing that the house would be full to the brim for days as more people realised what had happened and came to pay respects.
There was always someone with a cloth cleaning up the house, someone with a sponge washing up, or someone making a list of what we would need the following day.
Hundreds of people passed through those doors in that first week. My godsister and friends arrived with clothes and underwear for me as I didn’t know when I’d be going home. In moments when I was sat staring into space, looking lost in a room full of people, a friend or a cousin would force me out of the house to get air and just walk, without a word spoken between us.
As the eldest, my worry will always be about my younger siblings – that’s my job. But the moment their friends swooped into the house ready to look after them too, I suddenly realised that although I have my role, I did not have to be everything to them in our grief this time.
My siblings and I were raised to be kind to others, and the prize for that was the kindness that kept showing up at the door, in messages, and in voice notes.
Six days later, when I finally went to my own house for the night, I burst into tears. I was stood in a kitchen full of flowers from friends and colleagues, with cards written with words that hit my heart in so many different ways. Frozen food was delivered by neighbours and families from school. A school dad made us the most incredible slow-cooked beef, which I can still taste even now. Care packages arrived from school mums who just wanted to let me know they’ll be there anytime I need them.
Your next read
square VICKY SPRATTRetirees renting out rooms is proof they can afford to downsize
square PATRICK COCKBURNThis really could be the tipping point for Trump
square HAMISH MCRAEHouse prices are dropping in London – and will be followed by a slump across the UK
square POLLY HUDSONSweating, wailing, drunk on power: Alan Carr is a true British hero
If my bedroom blinds didn’t open for a day, my neighbour opposite would send a quick message to check in, or just leave me a gift at the door. Without a word spoken between us, me opening the bedroom blinds in the morning became a sign to let her know I was doing okay that day.
Every single person in our lives suddenly enveloped us into a bubble of kindness. They were, and still are, trying to make us feel safe from the shards of pain flying around our minds after our world shattered into a million pieces.
“Show me your friends, and I’ll show you who you are” is an old Jamaican phrase our parents would tell us repeatedly. As a family, our friends have blessed us with kindness, patience and love for which will we be forever grateful. But imagine if more of us extended the hand of kindness to others. And imagine the impact it could have on us all.
In the UK and Ireland, the Samaritans can be contacted free on 116 123 or visit samaritans.org
Hence then, the article about after losing my father to suicide kindness has come in unexpected ways was published today ( ) and is available on inews ( Middle East ) The editorial team at PressBee has edited and verified it, and it may have been modified, fully republished, or quoted. You can read and follow the updates of this news or article from its original source.
Read More Details
Finally We wish PressBee provided you with enough information of ( After losing my father to suicide, kindness has come in unexpected ways )
Also on site :
- Zelensky’s ex-deputy chief of staff charged with ‘green’ energy scam
- The 50 Best 'Survivor' Challenges Ever — According to the People Who Made Them (Exclusive)
- Gwyneth Paltrow Reveals Famous Ex-Boyfriend Introduced Her to Robin Williams Years After Their First Movie Together