It's only three years since Lucinda Bassett's beloved husband David committed suicide. I say 'only' but of course, if you've ever known loss, then you can guess how long three years must seem. In one of those horrendous twists of fate, shortly after Lucinda lost David, her mother and then her brother passed away too.
I was bearing this in mind as I read the prologue and introductory pages to Lucinda's memoir. In this heart-rending beginning to her soon-to-be published book, Lucinda describes the effect that David's suicide has had on the remaining members of her family. It makes all too familiar reading for those recently bereaved - the fact that we have lost the one we love does not automatically cause us to draw closer. That's a myth. Nor does it automatically give us the gift of supporting one another through the trauma - another myth.
Lucinda's introduction tells it 'how it is' with searing clarity, and reminds the 'fixers' amongst us that, we may well have a gift for assisting others but so often, that's as much use as a chocolate coffee-pot when it comes to our own tragedies.
I liked Lucinda's honesty and clear writing style, and her courage in describing very personal family trauma, and way that the best-laid plans for a memorial bench and tearful but comforting anniversaries actually turn out for most families.
I had, obviously, heard of Lucinda as an acclaimed life coach - she specializes in tragedy and bereavement counseling in a particularly compassionate and hands-on way - but now I understand so much more about how she got to the space where she can offer that to others. The counseling field is regrettably populated with a certain number of people who've never been in the kind of situations their clients are facing. With Lucinda I know I'd feel safe in the knowledge that this is one lady who has 'walked the walk and talked the talk.'
I'm looking forward to reading the whole book when it is released.