The unpacking that never ends…

Here it comes, the wash of sorrow, the wave of sadness. The knot in your stomach. The gnawing ache from a hole that will never be filled.
Here it comes. The crashing of love and loss, of joy and sorrow, the delight in your child’s smiles and the smile you will see no more.

The unpacking that never ends.

I hear you sorrow, tugging on my skirt like my son once did. I know you’re there, I know you’re waiting for me to open that box. Not today I tell myself. Not today I tell you. There are Christmas carols to be sung, lights to be seen, movies to be watched. Presents to be bought and wrapped. Friends to laugh with, loved ones to share with. Not today.

The unpacking that never ends.


I’m too busy and too grateful. Too loved and love too much. So much love, so much sadness. What incredible creatures we are that joy and pain can sit equally.

Now that everything is organised for Christmas I can no longer hold back the deep sadness that starts as a whisper in November and slams me so hard by mid December.
The longer i leave it packed away the more forceful it becomes.
In my darkest days I fear staying in the dark, fear no longer having the strength to pack it away, then the light comes in once again.

The unpacking that never ends.

I see you. I see you doing the best you can, I see you mumbling you hate Xmas, I see you ‘making a statement’, Xmas is too commercial, too shallow, it means nothing these days.
Remembering the love is the biggest reminder of the loss. I see you with your unpacking that never ends.

We got this.

Much Love,
Jazz xo