Last Week.

by Lori Dwyer on January 13, 2014 · 15 comments

I wrote this last week- the 7th of January, in fact. I just haven’t felt… solid enough? I think that’s the word I’m after. I haven’t felt solid enough to publish it until now.


I thought it was over. I really thought it was over and I was over this and life could move on. That feeling like this was just a memory, something I could have empathy for and vaguely remember but never again feel as keenly as I did.

But I was wrong. So wrong, and I should have known better.

I’ve spent all day mourning, grieving, keening, crying. Pushing through panic attacks and reminding myself to breathe, breathe, breathe. Everything that hurts, everything I successfully disengage myself from most days… it’s all here. I re-live four days spent in the ICU over and over. Tiny events and interactions with nurses and police and family and friends splice themselves unbidden into my mind. The time-frame of them solidifies. Normally, they are painful pops of memory disjointed. I know they happened, but I never delve far enough into them to put them in any kind of chronological order.

The last few days, I have counted them off. Yesterday was the day he responded, moving his eyes and flexing his feet. Yesterday was the day his body flexed and stressed and then relaxed as i told him what he wanted to know– two days, it’s only been two days.

Today was the day he stopped responding. Today was the day the swell of his brain took over what was left of him.

Tomorrow was the day they told us his life support would be shut off.

And Friday would be the day he died.

And there’s more, a hundred more (“I’m not dreaming, am I?” “No dear” the nurse with tears in her eyes as she responded, “No dear, I’m sorry, you’re not.”) but typing them out makes me cry and my eyes are red and sore and all I’ve done all day is cry.

The Most Amazing Man just lets me cry. He cuddles me and tells me it’s okay, cry if I need to. That he’s a good listener, he says, and sometimes he thinks that’s why he was sent to me.

We pack up our camping gear, clean the house. He makes me laugh.

Life…it goes on.


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{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }

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Karen January 19, 2014 at 3:34 pm

My asault and 12 hour kidnapping by a stranger who broke into my boarding room at 1 AM was 18 years ago/was a long time ago now and a very different thing I know- and sounds so trifling here but trauma is such a cheeky bastard. For years I would have horrid nightmares for a few days around the annivesary and in every new apartment I had to rehearse lying in bed at night just how I would escape and where I would go before I could go to sleep. I thought I was over it all but over the US Summer last year realized deep down I was still very angry at him for forever changing who I was and altering my life path. I am so sorry, Lori but glad you are being warmly and wholly loved. (You are a million percent worthy of it, beautiful! :-)


Nan January 14, 2014 at 3:17 pm

You know who this is and yes I know what your saying as I hate the days from the 6th to the 10th January. Next year we should go somewhere and spend these 4 days getting drunk and that way we can cry as much as we like because we are so ill from drinking we are vomiting our insides up.
Hopefully now you can move on you got to remember you moved away to another state you started a new life and it was all building up to letting go of your former like. Hopefully with a new man and you had a very good cry and relived those 4 days at the hospital you can move forward. I think you will understand what I am trying to put into words.


Karen January 19, 2014 at 3:36 pm

(Was still angry! Had some therapeutic ugly cries on a roadtrip ;-)


Kate January 14, 2014 at 12:34 pm

Yep, it does. Beautifully written Lori x


Rhianna January 14, 2014 at 11:43 am

Yep life it does a keep a going and so do you. Sending you lots of fairy wishes and butterfly kisses lovely
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flask January 14, 2014 at 10:16 am

don’t ever make the mistake of thinking it’s gone for good.

because then it will surface from the deep and bite your legs off.

this doesn’t mean you won’t have good times. it simply means that it can come back and clip you off when you don’t expect.

you’ll be ok. keep breathing.
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Toni @ Finding Myself Young January 14, 2014 at 9:18 am

Lori, I don’t think it will ever become just a memory. When something that traumatic happens to you I don’t think you can look back on it without reliving the pain and being back there in that moment. It’s been 18 years since my dad committed suicide and whenever I think about it I am right back there as a 10 year old girl reliving it as if it was happening all over again. I don’t think the emotions will ever leave you. What I can say though is that the flashbacks do become further apart as time goes on and you learn to deal with them better. And eventually you may be able to look back on them without tearing up. I can relive it all without actually crying, but I still get sad and emotional internally and I still dream about it all the time. I know its probably not what you wanted to hear, but at least you have a lovely man there for you to help you grieve .
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Marianne January 14, 2014 at 8:50 am

I thought about you a bunch last week…so if you though you felt well wishes and prayers coming your way with a Southern accent…that was me.
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Tracy B January 13, 2014 at 9:51 pm

I’m so sorry you are enduring such pain. Sending you light in the darkness.


Whoa, Molly! January 13, 2014 at 8:08 pm

Thinking of you, Lori.
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Spagsy January 13, 2014 at 7:58 pm

Xx rah rah from Lara


Bronnie January 13, 2014 at 7:16 pm

Love to you. x
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Vanessa January 13, 2014 at 7:02 pm

I’m glad The Most Amazing Man is there with you. Xox
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Lara January 13, 2014 at 6:54 pm

Sending so much love and hope to you.


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