Dear Bel,. Early last year a friend encouraged me to apply for a job where she worked. No sooner had I started than my father fell gravely ill and steadily declined until his death in November. The stages of his illness were marked by increasing infirmity, dependence, sadness and desperation. By the end of the year, my mother and I were exhausted. I have struggled with guilt at having prioritised a job above my darling Dad and this has not been helped by my friend's attitude. I can't shake the uneasy feeling that she has left me in the lurch – both professionally and personally – when I need her most.
I admit she was stalwart throughout the final week of my dad's life when she came over daily. But on the night of his death, she and a friend of my mother sat in the kitchen chatting animatedly over a glass of wine while Mum and I, in a state of shock and grief, sat in stunned silence because Dad had just died. A few weeks later, due to a restructure, I had to reapply and sit an interview for my job while planning Dad's funeral. My friend's attitude was that it was just something we all had to do.
My HR department and other colleagues all felt it was a deeply insensitive request. I had only two weeks off, consisting of annual leave, unpaid carer's leave and compassionate leave. I don't feel I have had any time to properly grieve or recover from what has happened. On my return to work and with a number of deadlines to meet, my friend took time out to go for a health check. Meanwhile, I worked long hours at home to meet our deadlines.
The following day she rang me and asked what I had left to do, before telling me that, among other things, she had a piece of work, forgotten from 2023, that also needed completing. I said I couldn't promise I'd get to it but I'd try. In stern terms, she said: 'I need this done, please.'. I sent an email stating I'd welcome the opportunity to clear the air but it, along with a previous text message, went ignored. I knew she can be selfish and I was going to have to stand my ground, but I find her very hard to be around.
My resentment is making me not want to engage with her, yet I need her support to try to pick up the threads of the job. She has begun leaving me out of things which would help my progress. My friend is now the last person I feel I can rely on for natural empathy or, at this juncture, professional support. Do you have any advice?. Helena. Bel Mooney replies: I am so very sorry to read of the recent death of your beloved father and to imagine how terrible his last months must have been for you and your mother, taking care of him at home.
You had only just begun the new job which was (as you explain in your uncut letter) challenging in terms of your prior knowledge. So during all those months you were working to establish yourself in the role, supporting your mother, in anguish over your father's deterioration, mourning his death and then having to sort out his financial affairs and organise his funeral. Please realise you have nothing to feel guilty about.
You did everything you had to do and the burden was immense. To then have to reapply for your own job (which happens in businesses, I know) was rather a brutal imposition. You must have been utterly exhausted as well as full of grief, and I have nothing but sympathy for you. Sky rinsed blue above the yellow grass. and wind-shorn clouds as thin as mist. how often I have failed to look. when looking would have changed me.
From February Clear by Maya C. Popa. (American poet, teacher and editor). I file incoming problem letters under various categories but I've rarely had one which straddles three of them. As well as bereavement (when you almost certainly experience painful flashbacks to your father's last days), you have all the stress of a demanding job plus this awful sense of being hurt and disappointed by your friend. So grief has you poleaxed while work and friendship have let you down.
It's a lot to bear – and I want you to take deep breaths when you feel panicky in order to calm yourself. I really mean this; you need to build that focused breathing into your daily routine. It's important you recognise that your friend was very supportive during that awful week. But when she and your mother's chum were having that glass of wine they were doing what all people do when they feel helpless: just be there and try to escape into their own normality.
I ask you to realise no insult was intended, but I suspect this friend is one of the very many who just cannot cope with grief. When I say it's common, I'm not excusing that lack but just suggesting you understand it. It's very hurtful indeed that she seems to have turned away from you, but I suggest that if you keep your head down and do the work and try to prepare your bravest face to meet her and your colleagues ... this awful period in your life will slowly pass.
