Grief sneaks up on you. It often doesn’t attack head on – when you can brace yourself for impact. The big hits are the attacks from behind – the ones you don’t see coming. That song on the radio, an unexpected find, a hidden photograph, a surprise film scene.

In the U.K. Mothers Day is fast approaching. It’s not an easy day to get through but it’s no surprise. You have weeks to prepare. It won’t be fun but I guess it won’t be a complete meltdown. I suspect I will blog further on this again.

Taking the dog for a walk in the local Arboretum. It’s a lovely relaxing place. I was using the walk to get my head round a work problem. The mad dog was happy – a dog and an Arboretum full of thousands of trees …. Pup Heaven.

So I was in autopilot. Just following Captain Chaos from tree to tree. Starting to form a viable fix to the work problem. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. A sudden realisation of location. A sudden sinking heart. Suddenly hit by a sneaky grief attack.

In autopilot mode I had drifted into one particularly beautiful area. During autumn a place glowing with silver leaves. A place my partner would repeatedly visit. I can see her face smiling at the view. A place where she wants part of her ashes scattered. A flood of tears and complete despair. I feel very old and so very alone.

But thankfully for my sanity I have designated role. Our Son needs me. He deserves the best childhood possible. So I let the dog pull me away from the area to a particularly exciting unmarked giant Tree.

Put away the tissue. Breathe. Refocus. That wave of grief has passed but I know that the tide will return.

72 thoughts on “Sneaky Grief

  1. Just try to ride it as best as you can. Deep love must in many ways be like an ocean. Would we try to tell the ocean to always be at peace or calm with no waves? How can we? We are born to feel… I cant imagine the depths and bredths of your own particular sorrow as it is unique to you. I can only say I hear you and painful as it is its good to feel it but its also a challenge not to get stuck. Sending love your way. You must feel so alone at times. There are no adequate words really. ❤

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  2. That is a very beautiful place Sir. Your wife has excellent taste.

    Sounds like you DO have it together… as much as anyone who’s ever been in your situation can. I am thankful that, so far, i have not been – and at my age it’s looking hopeful (kinda?) I will not.

    We cannot avoid grief – not so long as we love things in this life. The option of having no grief and also no love in life is not one i would ever choose.

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      1. Indeed! The trick is to be able to find some sort of perspective on it that lets you function and interact with others – there’s safety in numbers. 🙂


  3. Comes in waves………..but I’m finding the waves get smaller. It does not mean I love or miss him less. I’m just learning how to cope without him. Something I NEVER thought I’d be able to learn…..

    March 20th was our 3rd wedding anniversary. I never got to celebrate our first with him. He died 4 months/2days after we married. It doesn’t sneak up on me like other days do. I’ve just learned to cope and move on because this crippling grief is no way to live.

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  4. Grief is indeed sneaky. ‘Doughnut machines’ in the fields, Dulux dogs, the film Jaws, home grown horesradish. Sharp and painful at first, but it does ease. The tears are always there though, even if they’re not shed. ❤ ❤ Will be lighting a candle for my Mum in Sunday.

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  5. I have never experienced the level of grief you are experiencing, so I cannot comment other than to tell you to hang in there, but that sounds so trite, doesn’t it? You do have your son who needs you more than ever, and believe it or not, you have a life ahead of you … it’s just hard to see at the moment. I care. And I’m sending you a big HUG! Try to find a reason to smile today, okay?

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Really??? His hair makes me run for the bathroom 🤢 Of course I care … and obviously so do many of your readers. I only wish I had magical words, but as so often happens, I haven’t.

        Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh yes. Grief’s a right bastard some days. I try to make the goal building new memories with the old. When all we have are the memories we wish to return to, we forget about the new ones we can build, ones that we can enjoy in the here and now. So often little hands and little laughters can help with that. xxxxxxxxxx

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  7. Grieving is a process. It’s a series of floods and pauses. The floods grow shorter, the pauses, longer. Eventually, the memories shift from the flood side (the blind side) to the pause side (up front, personal, in your face & you smile because you knew them). When the pain subsides, the memories keep them close to you. “She’s not really gone. She’s just in the next room. I will see her, again…in a few…”

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  8. This is so true. I lost my sister, suddenly, 3 years ago and those days when the grief creeps in and punches me in the guts are rough. Yet, we cry, remember, and get up, eventually, to face another day. Love and light to you💛

    Liked by 1 person

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