In this column, Connor Brady, Green Party Town & District Councillor, Biddulph East reflects on bereavement following his dad's recent passing.

One thing that my dad's passing has shown me is how much this country needs to improve the way we deal with death and bereavement.

At the end of November, my Dad, Paul Rowland, passed away at 52. Among the pain which comes with a parent passing, it has shown me that as a society, death is a real blind spot.

A 2023 Marie Curie study found that 59% of us feel we do not talk about death and dying enough, and only 14% of people have spoken to someone about their care wishes for the end of life.

I am fortunate to have so many people who have offered their condolences and kindness; everybody tells you they are there for you. However, how many people are actually going to have a conversation with you about the grief, we often do not really know what to say or how to console someone.

I think it is a great positive that death and bereavement will become a mandatory part of RSHE in schools from September this year to help shift this in future generations.

One thing which highlights our view on death is how many people said to me it is good to be back at work and have normality. I am sure for some people working again after a bereavement is great, but for me, it was very difficult, and I needed those few days away from work.

In the UK, there is only statutory bereavement leave for parents, covering the loss of a child under the age of 18 or a stillbirth after 24 weeks of pregnancy. This means that when one of our close relatives passes away, we may be required to work the same day.

Under these cold and frankly heartless conditions, I suppose I am lucky to have had a few days paid leave.

An Ipsos survey found that 87% of UK adults think paid bereavement leave should cover the loss of one or more of seven different close family members or a close friend. 69% of those UK adults agree that employers should have a bereavement policy in place that accommodates different religious needs.

I cannot understand a society where we get either none or very little paid leave when a family member passes away. Especially when you have all of the additional costs associated with a funeral, for people to be left to take various amounts of unpaid leave seems so heartless and cold to me.

My Dad was extremely outgoing, confident, and witty. He really had no filter and always said it how it was. He loved music, Formula 1, and being a dad. He grew up on council estates, without a father, and as poor as anyone, but he became this charming and intelligent man. He had these extremely funny stories of partying, of his foolishness (which I certainly inherited), and his ability not take things too seriously.

What I will remember most about my Dad, though, is what a father he was. He loved being a dad, and all those memories I have of being read to, going swimming, the cinema, and Formula 1, all helped me grow up to be who I am today.

I will always remember cringing as my dad would tell anyone he could how both he and his son graduated with first-class honours degrees. He was always so proud to have graduated, knowing where he came from, and me doing the same.

What I take most from my dad in my life is his kindness, generosity, and riotousness. My Dad hated injustice, he couldn't bear to see people suffer, and he always wanted to cheer people up

Although my dad was never really political, he always voted (Labour), and I certainly feel his influence in my politics today. He suffered from mental health issues, and it has always highlighted to me how inadequate support is in this country.

I am so proud that the work of my Councillor colleague, Adam Parkes, has helped make Biddulph the first mental health friendly town, and that I could become a mental health first aider as part of this.

My Dad passed away suddenly and I found him in his deep sleep. I can take great solace that he went without pain or suffering. I'm sure it is how we all want to go, in peace.

Owen Jones, after his father's passing, was told grief was like a landscape without a map, and grief makes you a stranger to yourself. I have certainly found myself in the fog, questioning where my life is taking me.

How can you truly comprehend that your Dad, who was there from the second you opened your eyes to now, can just be gone with the click of a finger never to return. When a core pillar of your existence comes crashing down how can everything just remain the same?

For my Dad the sudden passing of his mother broke him as a human being, with him always trying but never quite putting the pieces back together. Bereavement impacts us all differently. This government and employers could learn the value of being more compassionate.

My Dad thought about his passing more than most people usually do, and I think he always lived his life to the fullest because, in his own mind, he felt he wouldn't get forever. I think it can be a lesson for us all, and to make sure those closest to us are never in doubt about how much we care for them.

I am glad he is at peace and that I will always remember him as my hero.