Unexpected friends

When you plan a party, you make a list of your people—the ones who matter most, the ones you count on, your VIPs. You go over that list carefully, making sure no important name is left out. These are the people you think will show up when it really counts.

Then, your world is turned upside down.

Suddenly, the people you thought you could rely on, well some are there, but others vanish. They try, but this path is hard—too hard for many. And then, out of nowhere, these amazing people appear. They check in, send love, and simply show up—whether from near or far, in whatever way you need. They don’t ask for anything. They’re just present.

And then there are the new people—the ones you meet in the darkness, through shared pain and lived experience.

Thanks to a dear friend, I found TCF (The Compassionate Friends). These are now my people. We speak a language no one wants to learn. In this space, you can be honest. You can cry, swear, say your child’s name out loud. No judgment. No expectations. Just love.

You go to a meeting and say, “I want to write a book.” At the next meeting, you read your story. They listen—not just with their ears, but with their hearts—because they know where that pain comes from. At the following meeting they ask for updates. They want to buy a copy for their grandchild. They encourage you when you think you can’t keep going. They inspire you to keep becoming the mum your child would be proud of—the mum who honours their child every day.

These women—my new friends—are warriors. They struggle to exist, but they still get out of bed. They show up. No one can understand the strength of the bond that connects us unless they’ve walked this path. We are strangers who may have had nothing in common, until grief brought us together, in a club none of us ever asked to join.

But here we are. And I admire them all, more than words can ever say.

Thank you