They ran themselves ragged at the beach. Ate ice cream and drank lemonade and played at the park and argued and fought and had the most awesome time. I think you only have fun like that as a kid, really. You spend your adult life smiling on at it, or, if you happen to have kids of your own, facilitating it.
And I took photos and slept and relaxed and slept more. And I missed my husband with this big, aching chasm of grief that I’ve been unable to shake for weeks now. I don’t know… but the the last month I almost miss him as much as I did the first month. (And I tell myself that, knowing it can’t possibly be true…)
I find myself talking about him more and more, reminiscing over what we did and how we did. And I find myself confronted more and more with big gaps in things I should know. Things I used to know. Little things. The things that make up life (We drive past a bush walking spot on our way to Paradise, and I say to Chop “We went there, your Daddy and I, before I was even pregnant with you. And we saw.. I think… I can’t remember. Was it a wombat, or an echidna…?” And I still don’t know, of course, because there is no Tony here for me to ask.)
Maybe– probably– I’m missing him because the festive season– our festive season, all our birthdays and Christmas rolled into a few short mmonths– has officially already begun.
I’ll be thirty one years old this week.
Or maybe it’s not that. I always prefer to think poetically, it seems to make life prettier... maybe it’s to be blamed on all these holes that seem to forming where memories of him used to be. They have to be filled with something. So it’s layers of tears, a swath of deep blue. All the pain of wishing he were here funneling into them to fill their empty space.
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
Should of let me know would of come see u kirri
Lori,
I'm sorry that things are rough for you now. My therapist told me something the other day which seems applicable here, she said that in many ways we never truly accept a loss, we just learn to live with it.
You have been saying that the you are entering into a different phase of your life with your children, with the Chop going off to school, and so I believe it is entirely natural that you are noticing that you are doing it differently than if you had Tony by your side.
I can't add any wisdom to Spagsy's comment about thinking about your relationship with Tony as a woolen jumper.
Please be gentle with yourself and allow yourself to miss Tony, remember the things that you enjoyed and mourn the things that you didn't.
Whatever the reason for all of your renewed memory avalanche, I hope they bring you some joy too…
<3
Just being here with you…
Peace.
it's all quite circular isn't it.. I remember trying to explain to someone who thought it was 'just another day' why the anniversary of deaths is particularly hard – and I think it's to do with the seasons, the natural rhythms of the year .. the acknowledgement that all this time has passed without them. my sympathy lori.
and to the woman who commented above, your comment brought back (tears) and memories of a similar situation (although I played a different character in my version). it is painful. and it is hard. but you can and you will do it, if you have to. Until then, hope. x
Well I hope you get to have a happyish birthday. I feel like I am at the anticipatory (I know, it's not even a word) end of what you are going through. My husband has cancer and every milestone for me brings up questions inside my head. Will this be our last Christmas as a family? What will Christmas be like without him? We took our kids on a Queensland holiday (kind of a bucket list thing for my husband) and as we were driving along I told the kids we would come back to the theme parks when they are teenagers and they can run wild and do what they want and my husband whispered, so the kids didn't hear "YOU can".
How am I going do this on my own?
Lori. Look at your favourite knotted jumper- it has plenty of gaps but there is something about it that is warm and cosy. Keep talking about Tony to the kids and discuss your life like the weave of that jumper. The ups, downs, knots and joins. I heard a story in a grief group I was in about how your relationship needs to continue with your loved one. It's just a changed relationship and that grief is just the storming, morning and forming of the new chapter in your relationship.
I don't know how you feel really, but I would wager to say that it does hurt as much as it ever did, but I'm very glad, and have a warm flow in my heart from hearing you speak about him to your children.
This sounds very normal. A healthy stage you are travelling through. You will get to the other end. Don't fight what you feel. Sounds like a lovely weekend. Giulia.x
Maybe too, it's that you are allowing yourself to remember and miss him because it's not as painful as it was? Like for ages, perhaps you couldn't let yourself miss him because it might hurt way too much, but now you are in a place where you can miss him without it destroying you?
Perhaps.
I'm glad you had a great weekend in Paradise with the childrenfolk.