Click here to download a Free Printable PDF of The 5 Stages of Grief and Loss. A friend died. It was sudden, unexpected and inexplicable. It sent shockwaves through our families, who have strong ties. Her great grandmother and my grandfather were siblings. Her father, Piero, and my father are close friends. Here in Italy, we share the hillside where our ancestors were born. Piero turned my grandparent’s old stable into a lovely cottage, a weekend retreat for the family. We keep the old Osteria from falling down. Fiorenzo and Piero are a good team up there. They work well together, keeping the grass low and the woods safe. It’s a beautiful place. That’s where it happened. We’re reeling with grief. I can’t imagine the pain of her family, her intimate circle. I can’t touch upon that of her close friends and collegues, her social groups, the people who saw her every day and shared the years. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. Our connection was that of two families with strong ties, who share a hillside, and a bit of history, and every springtime and summer, a carpark where we’d chat and catch up while our dogs barked like mad. This is how I’ll remember Francesca: in shorts, a singlet top and walking shoes, healthy and tanned, her huge smile and loving eyes. We’d catch up, and then she’d head off up the hill to their cottage. Peace. Nature. A little bit of paradise. Maybe her father would be up there, or her sons. Maybe she’d spend time on her own. So, no, I can’t claim closeness. But the grief is intense, and what hurts is the whole of it. It’s like some great collective weeping when I think of the sadness all around. Knowing that my father’s shoulders are heavy and his tears are streaming for the suffering of his friend. Knowing that my mother can’t think of anything else. For my brother, trying to get his head around it. For my sisters, reaching out, for our mutual friends. It’s an overlapping of pain. An expansion, an ...
5 Stages of Grief and Loss – Elizabeth Kübler-Ross
