The Grief Manifesto

By Melanie Peut

A memoir by Melanie Clare Peut. Both cutting and gentle, this ultimately uplifting account about surviving grief after the loss of a child is set against the background of a fertile, rural Australian landscape.

'The Grief Manifesto' is a deliberate celebration of love and of beauty and of the struggle we all sometimes face in life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melanie Peut
• Release date: Nov 4, 2010

Melanie Peut

i am 37, author, wife and mother of 2 kids and 1 angel. i live in queensland, australia.

Book preview

The Grief Manifesto

published by Melanie Clare Peut at Smashwords

copyright 2010 Melanie Clare Peut

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

table of contents

prologue

day 1

day 2

day 3

day 4

day 5

day 6

day 7

day 8

day 9

day 10

day 11

day 13

day 14

day 15

day 16

day 17

day 19

day 21

day 22

day 23

day 24

day 30

recipes

photos

for glenda, marie, florence, & louise and all the other strong women i have been blessed to know

****

this book is made possible by craig, who taught me how to be calm in a maddening world; and ruby, who lights up my life with everything she is and everything she does; and clementine, who’s passing from this world has taught me so much; and lastly, louis, and all the other beautiful babies, who are pure sunshine

****

prologue (contents)

right after i lost my second child, clementine, who died shortly after her birth, almost two years ago now, i thought my life was over. i thought that there was absolutely no way forward from such a tragedy. all i saw everywhere around me was despair, and a grief so overwhelming that every inch of me seemed to leak pain. the pain felt so big that it seemed at times to go beyond my physical body.

often, it was a black horrible place, but there was something else about it too. there was a glimmer. even at the hardest, deepest, darkest moments of my grief, and even when i did not consciously notice it, that glimmer was always there.

the glimmer was new and it intrigued me, because i did not understand it.

the grief was visible - the pain pouring out of me was pure and white. although i made no mention of it at the time, i have come to marvel at the pureness and clarity of such deep and transformative feelings.

as hard as grief is, it is also a gift. it is a precious and selfless knowledge that is perception altering. it made me realise why so many refer to a lost infant human life as an angel. it is purity and loss in its most innocent form.

the absorbing and transformative power of this grief had a marked effect on my partner and me on several perceptive levels.

spiritually, we came to feel enormous gratitude for each other and our remaining children and for every wonderful person in our lives and for the supportive family and wider community that helped us through the worst of losing our baby.

materially, we lost our appetite for everything. nothing except the people in our lives seemed to matter at all anymore. this also manifested for us in our environment, right down to the remaining funds in our bank accounts dwindling to zero.

the lowest low came on the anniversary eve of her second birthday and anniversary of her death, at an unlikely place and in an unlikely way. in hindsight, it was only by reaching this point of complete acceptance that things finally began to turn around. our fortunes began to change. i thank that little angel on my shoulder for being there every step of the way on this surprising and challenging journey.

****

(contents)

day 1

'tirra lirra' lowood, queensland, australia

no need to run and hide, it's a wonderful, wonderful life

black

to: ayrine - tue 17 aug 2010

subject: hey ayrine- congratulations!!!!

i am thrilled to hear your news of your new little boy. i do understand what u mean though, the pain is still there, and it is hard to know where to put it. i have managed to put mine into the ground. i have a tree in the centre of a beautiful garden in our yard. the tree is like a sculpture. a