If you put a baby on one end of a seesaw and then invite a fully grown adult to jump on the other end, that baby is no longer on the seesaw.
But the reverse of this scenario is how I think grief, and living with grief works.
Because if you start with the adult and invite the baby to jump on the other end, well not a lot happens, but they are both now on the seesaw.
And as the baby gets older, and bigger, eventually the seesaw will balance out, and may even tip in the baby’s favour, even though the adult hasn’t gotten any smaller.
The adult in this example, is grief; it’s always there, and it will never go away, and it might even get fatter, but the baby represents life, and the more we feed the baby the bigger life can become.
Grief is complex; it can arrive as a result of catastrophe, misfortune, abuse, or cruelty, leaving us ill, sad, confused, broken, traumatised, experiencing debilitating despair; and everything in between.
But as the Queen said herself, grief is the price we pay for love – and love is worth paying any price for.
If you can do something to help someone feed their seesaw baby you definitely should, and if someone wants to help you feed yours, you should definitely let them.
We don’t get past grief alone.