Le premier mot…


Behind the lack of blogging on my website over the past year, I have had a secret project. I have been very busy completing a 100,000 word manuscript telling the story of how I have pulled myself back from the deepest pit of grief following my husband Olivier Foubert’s death to patch myself up again (think of Humpty Dumpty here) to re-engage with a love of life. Recovery from grief is like childbirth. No-one can take this gruellinig path for you and we are simply not equipped to cope well with sorrow.  But your family and friends can walk with you as you grope towards the light once more, trying to awaken the person you once more. I have taken my journey from grief – about returning to France with a girlfriend, about friendships, about food and phobias and learning how to have fun again – and written my story hoping it will help others facing terrible loss.  My greatest hurdle was learning to cope with sudden loneliness – and so I spent two weeks in Paris alone to regain my sense of self.  Although its my personal story, grief is a universal emotion and is intrinsically linked to love. In our older lives, love and loss are as bound together as the adage of our youth that love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage.  I don’t know if I will be successful in getting my story published. Presently, it is in the hands of my literary agent. I wait patiently, but regardless, writing my stuff has been cathartic – and I feel healed. I can proudly write that whatever the outcome, my story, with the working title Bon Voyage Mesdames  is the best thing I have ever written.

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