It has been a while since I posted a blog such as this one. Grief is something that never leaves the soul. It’s a journey that we will all experience at some stage or another. It can be lonely and dark but it is a road that can be taken. It may take you longer than others, or so it may seem. But in the end the light prevails. A deep understanding of life is gained and acceptance reached.
If you are new to my blog then I guess I should explain myself. I lost my brother Marcus in 2005. He was 18 years old, my big brother, and I just 15. He lost his life tragically in a car accident. He was the pillar of our family as my parents were separated since we were young. He took on more than just a brother role, he in some ways was a father figure and the care giver. A year and a half after his passing, my father Maxie died. I was 16. To lose the most important men at such a tender age was extremely difficult. But I have learned through the pain and suffering to accept what has happened.
Writing has been of great help to me and has allowed me to express what I truly feel. The first blog I shared about what I was feeling was in 2011, during University, when I hit a wall. It explains the deep hurt I was experiencing. You can read that here.
In the Living With Grief section I have been sharing my life and journey with grief honestly and openly to hopefully help you if you have lost someone you love.
It’s not an easy road and it does take time. You need to put yourself first. Your own needs and feelings.
I will be sharing more from my old diaries as time goes on.
This is something I wrote for my Dad on his anniversary some years ago (August 12th).
Dear Dad,
Seven years later and my feet are not on Irish soil but never fear, wherever my heart wanders, your soul is always with me.
For years I wandered and drifted away from reality and lived a distorted ‘reality’, one where I avoided the pain and loneliness that accompanies death. But last year I stopped running and faced my ultimate fear. I had to let you go. I had to stop holding onto the life I was living, your life. I had to set you free.
Always by my side,
Meghann x
MeghannMix by Meghann Scully 
Dear Meghann,
Timely tweet & post, I must say. Today was the first day I went back to the office since my father passed away, 2 weeks ago tonight. His wake and funeral were last Wednesday. Having had no real idea of how I’d feel the day after the funeral, I planned on being back at the office last Thursday. I mean, I’ve been going to family funerals since I was 7, as both of my parents are the 3rd youngest of very large families (and I’m 1 of 10!) so I figured I’d be fine.
Ha. I woke up feeling like my iPhone when there’s less than 10% battery power. I’ve now learned that it’s quite different when it’s a parent, than when it’s an aunt or uncle or grandparent. Absolutely draining.
It feels like I’m always on the beach, just standing at the edge of the water, with the waves splashing over my feet. Mostly it’s a gentle ebb and flow, pulling from my heart either a wistful smile or a smile thru tears. Sometimes the waves are more playful, splashing gleefully up over my ankles and calves. Still other times, a particularly strong wave makes the sand shift beneath my feet, throwing me a little off balance. Then I right myself again. And that’s how I’ll continue. The sea is for me.
Thank you for sharing your own grief. While I knew about your brother, I didn’t know your father passed away so soon after Marcus did. My heart aches for you, and for your Mom. Keep riding those waves.
Julianne, I am so sso sorry for the loss of your father and my late reply.
I understand exactly how you feel and you gave such a powerful description and image of grief.
Thank you for getting in touch,
Sending you love and peace,
Meghann
Thank you, Meghann… Ironically, I can now share the same kind of experience, but in reverse. My brother, James, passed away early yesterday morning… just 7 weeks after my father passed. He’d been in a coma for the past 2 weeks, after collapsing at home from “some kind of cardiac event” that was definitely not a heart attack. He hadn’t been sick; didn’t have any known underlying medical conditions. The doctors don’t know why, either. Tests haven’t shown why. It just happened.
The waves are much stronger this time around, but I’m still standing. As are you.
Love and peace to you, too.
Julianne
Julianne, I am so terribly sorry for your loss. That’s devastating. Sending you my deepest sympathies at this difficult time.
Thank you very much, Meghann. I appreciate it.