It is now eight lonely weeks ....
This is my third Grief Diary entry.
Eight long weeks since you closed your eyes and left this world.
Has anything become easier? The truth? I don't know.
My friends and relatives say I sound a little better. The constant depression and pain which oozed from my voice, is now lighter.
My RNIB counsellor was thrilled when I actually laughed about something one of my grandchildren had done. Therefore, there must be some improvement...although I can't really see it, or feel it or know it. I certainly don't believe it!
I still cry. I saw a diary today. A real leather bound one for 2016. It was in Pauls magazine basket. He had bought it before he died, ready for all the great adventures and trips we were planning in 2016....a short break in January, a couple of days in Holland in the Spring, A cruise for his birthday. Now these will never be.
I grieve for the future as well as the past. I grieve for the couple who would walk on a windswept promenade, see flowers in Amsterdam and enjoy the pleasures of the Med, making jokes about the local traditions and customs, whilst enjoying the sun! I grieve for them although they never came into being. When you lose someone, you lose a potential future too.
Oh how I miss you so! Where are you?
I missed our Sunday breakfast today, you reading me the papers , even the sports news which I ignored. Alex talked about you. " What if Bampi was home when you got in? " He said. What if you were? Perhaps you are here, hovering about in a gauzy spirit costume, wondering why I'm acting so strange?
Are you in the wind, which blows around me? the sunset which glows as it drops behind the mountain? The softest caress I feel on my cheek? The tenderest kiss as I fall asleep? Is that you, or my fervent imagination?
I'm sure things move. Cupboards clean themselves, glasses disappear, objects reappear in unusual places...it's probably my subconscious mind forgetting I moved them, but it gives me some comfort. I think it's you.i want it to be you. Please let it be you!
We look for signs don't we? We cling to anything which might prove you are still here..somewhere. I wish I could cling to you, tightly and never let you go. Why can't I? Why has this simple comfort been taken from me?
I ask too many questions. They whirl around constantly in my mind.
Why can't you see the daffodils? Answer: Because you are gone.
Please come back! ❤️