I’d like to thank Paul Tonner for writing so honestly about how he coped with the death of his daughter (A moment that changed me, 24 August), in particular where he said: “I didn’t let my emotions overwhelm me. It wasn’t about denying them, but trying to process them in a calm way.”
In the last six years, my life has imploded. My son (and only child) took his own life in 2016 after a year of prolonged stress and trauma. My husband was already in poor health, and died some 20 months later. In the last four months of his life, I learned that my clergyman and all-round good-guy husband of 34 years had in fact lived a secret, hidden existence for most, perhaps all, of those years. I had to process all of this in the context of managing to live with multiple sclerosis.
Like Tonner, though by a different route, I chose to face all the emotion and trauma squarely, but calmly. At times I’ve felt judged, as if for some people, facing my experience and feelings calmly meant I somehow didn’t care, or was in denial, or was less sensitive than other people. “You’re so strong” has sometimes seemed to imply: “Obviously, you don’t feel things as intensely as I do”.
As I read Tonner’s article, I felt a real sense of meeting someone who understands that you can face even the greatest pain and feel it in all its intensity and be calm, and return to a place of calm over and over again. Those few words really heartened me on my own path. It meant a lot to me to come across someone who understands.
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