This weekend I was lucky enough to be invited to be part of a good friends 5-year anniversary since the death of her person celebration at the beach. She and I met through the support group and have been friends since our first interaction. Another friend introduced us at the first Camp Widow conference I attended and asked for me to be added to the online forum; She jokingly said no, and I told her to F#@& off – as I do! – and we have been friends ever since.

She and I have a whole lot in common, we travelled together to Vietnam earlier this year, and I have been part of her remembering her person – Chris, before. We often share stories and memories – two years ago I took her to Cabba where we had an amazing day remembering and watching the whales. She came with me this year for Clayties anniversary in July, and we went snorkelling with turtles. It is a good feeling to have someone in your world who really understands how shitty the grief rollercoaster actually is – and to be at the same place with it – 5 years.

We were talking the other day about how strange it feels for 5 to be such a hard year, and not really knowing why. This year has been really hard for her too. For some reason, all the feelings seem really amplified and the build up to the actual dates has been horrible. For me, this year and the second year after Claytie died have been the hardest. I think maybe it is to do with realisation, the shock has worn off and the realities of life now are kind of firmly established. There is the looking forward at what life now looks like, dating (or not) and trying to figure out what you really want from what is left. There have been a whole lot of changed relationships, and all the highs and lows that come your way… and coming to terms with doing all of those things on your own without your person.

So, on Friday, we packed the car and left right after work for Caloundra – a place that holds special memories for her. The traffic was kind of shitty, but the reward of getting there was worth it. We checked into our accommodation and then went back out nearly straight away. We have a friend (who is also a widow) who lives up there, and her partner was performing at one of the local restaurants – our destination for dinner! Yummy food, good company and live music – a great way to start the weekend!

Saturday morning we got up for sunrise. It’s a spectacular time of day and it’s a fabulous way of contemplating your place in the world. Listening to the waves while sitting and taking a moment just helps to put a whole lot of things into perspective. After some brekky and a cup of tea, we went back up the hill to one of the parks that was a favourite spot for Chris and sprinkled some of his ashes. It is a tradition now for bits of him to be left in all of the places that my friend travels to – something that is both beautiful and bittersweet, and does not get easier to do. We had plenty of laughs to go with the tears, joking about which way the wind was blowing so as to not inhale any ashes.

Lots of food and drinks, as well as a memorial tattoo (created by the widowed friend mentioned earlier) and more live music rounded out the weekend. It was emotional and exhausting and I feel really privileged to have been part of it. If it hadn’t been for our people dying I would not have this friend in my world, and I am grateful for her part in it x