Moody skies. In the distance a Buzzard is being chased off by two Crows. That sort of distance shot is way beyond my old mobile.
I keep saying it but grief is really pesky. It likes to sneak up on you. Even after more than two years it still does. Of all the sneak attacks one always hits the hardest. It’s when you momentarily forget what has happened. You only need to forget for a few moments and then wham – grief slaps you in the face.
The same thing has happened time and time again to me. I’m driving towards our house. I look up and see no car sitting on the drive. I immediately think that I’ve beaten my partner home today. That means I can ….. Then it hits you. She’s gone. It’s the most soul destroying feeling. Absolute desolation. The shock literally takes your breath away. You then have to enter a house which is so full of memories. It really does take quite a while to get yourself back on an even keel.
It happened again today. No car on the drive. Beaten her home. I can get the housework done before she’s back. Maybe even get a mushroom stroganoff on the go. Her favourite. Then it hit me. Bugger… Even with a mad dog the house seemed really cold and colourless. So empty. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
But it is. Got to make the best of things. Just have to accept that grief is the new reality. But I can keep going. I try to see grief as sitting by the seashore. Sometimes the tide comes in. Often the waves are tiny and you hardly notice them. But every so often the tide comes in with force and the waves crash over you. It’s a full on storm. But I tell myself to breath and eventually the tide has to retreat. It really has to. And I do realise that I am so fortunate. I have a purpose to drive me on. Give our son the best childhood possible.
But still I could try and hire those two birds in the photograph. Maybe they can keep watch for grief and then chase it off when it comes hunting. That really would be something to crow about.
Your home now may only seem to be colorless and cold.
It is not.
It is filled with the strong colors of valor of a Dad giving all of his broken heart to give his little chap a home.
It is filled with rainbow hues of a man writing each day and sharing it. Making us laugh, bringing a tear to our own eyes, helping us go out and live the day better.
Overcast the skies may be, but your home is filled with the sunshine that streams in only when we do what we must, broken heart or not, to make the world a better place.
There’s a lot of color, Gary. You can’t see it yet.
But you will some day.
LikeLiked by 7 people
Some days I can see colour but others not so much. But I’m lucky as even on the bad days I do force myself to put on my game face and make life fun for our son. I’m sure one day more colours will return. Take care.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Who needs superheroes when we have hearts like yours🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
That’s so kind of you.
LikeLike
I feel that way about my parents Gary. I miss them. The other day I woke up remembering the way Dad would tuck me in at night……… so tight I couldn’t move, but I felt loved and safe. Mum is with me every day staring back at me from the mirror. I think of her a lot, and wish things had been different for so many reasons. Grief is a bitch, your comparison to the tide is excellent.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s so tough. Everyday more questions I wish I had asked my parents and partner.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your ocean analogy. So good! 💌
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. It helps me put things into perspective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My heart breaks for you…sending you all the love and prayers!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. x
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re so welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏
LikeLike
Gosh. I hear you. Grief is all consuming on most days. Keep going, she’s with you x
LikeLiked by 2 people
We have to keep going. I really hope so. x
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m sure there is nothing easy about any of it!!! Sending warm thoughts and prayers!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
So devastating – looking for the car and then the ocean analogy. Wow. Thinking of you – in all the good and especially these tough moments where grief presents itself.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Robyn. Hope your doing ok.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re doing well. You’re doing very well. And we’re all behind you. Keep going. Kx
LikeLiked by 4 people
Thank you. Hope your still doing good. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is such a beautifully written post – it brought tears to my eyes reading it. Thinking of you all
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. The other way to look at it is to just see grief as another word for love. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know the feeling. I am thankful for the purpose also.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Purpose really helps doesn’t it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Amen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good post. Glad you are letting those feelings out, it does help.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It really does.
LikeLike
She’s so proud of how you’ve handled it all, your strength is admirable. Keep going, soon you’ll all be together, until that day comes, try enjoying today with your son, he’s still here. Sending you lots of hugs and prayers for continued strength dearest friend. 🙏🏽
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Hope your ok. Must be time for a Disney trip…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I sure wish it was that time of year to go. Hehe 😏
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always is. Shame we have to cross a sea and go to a different country for ours.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know! Must be, we don’t take ours for granted. 😌
LikeLiked by 1 person
How far are you from yours. We forget what a really big country you live in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We are four hours away. And even then, it’s hard to get there as often as we’d like.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Four hours is still a long way with a family.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree, it is. 😌
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my friend, hugs to you. You do so much that I am sure makes her proud of you even though you can’t always see or feel it. x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. I found an old photo of Glen Coe today. Brought back memories and thought of your exploits there. x
LikeLike
Oh lord, we’ve had some hairy ones. Going back soon for some more too. Hope your memories were fun x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Take your camera. x
LikeLike
Cos I am keeping them for the rocky road slices ..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love them
LikeLike
Yeah. I sometimes make them at Christmas.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I could eat them 365 days a year
LikeLike
Lol. Well Tell yah what. IF you send me your addy. Just go to my contact form on mah blog, I will send you a box at xmas xxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that’s an offer I couldn’t refuse. xx
LikeLike
I mean it. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is so kind. Looking forward to it already. xxx
LikeLike
Oh yeah. You bet x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool
LikeLike
I just won’t take the edible ear plugs….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Can’t understand why.
LikeLike
A great way to encapsulate the feeling. I’m sorry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
OW! That’s painful.
If it’s painful for me what could possibly be the word for how you feel about it??? 😦
I truly have no idea. My only form of comparison that might come anywhere near it is a divorce and my dad’s death from brain cancer. I can’t see either as a worthy comparison, not by a long shot.
One thing i am sure of though, is that you are strong enough to get past this, or this level of unwanted and unexpected hurt at least. And with your help, so will your son. Of course neither of you has to try to do it only on your own, in fact i recommend you don’t.
Find some people who may have already done what you need to, or find some people who teach what you need to know – there is no shame in asking for help, ever!
Hope you’ve been able to hop on your bike, or at least walk the path for some time today (yesterday?), maybe even make it to Dover? (where i believe they have blue skies at least once a week! – in Summer anyway.) 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
We dusted ourselves and went again today my friend,
LikeLiked by 1 person
😔 💔 I hope that those moments become fewer. It’s hard to swim in crashing surf. 😧
LikeLiked by 1 person
The other way to look at it is that grief is really just another word for love.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Indeed it is. ❤️ May you be able to swim well.
LikeLike
Beautifully sad – and all too relataeable 🖤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your potent grief is well described
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you sir
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, you say it so well and no wonder so many people read and like your posts. You are a voice in the dark for so many and maybe particularly for widows who can’t voice their emotions. I know this is insignificant in comparison but I get moments of loss where I recall and miss my gran who past away 23 years ago, I like to view and savour those emotions as being the moments we are closest to one another. Thinking of you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sadly we all experience it at some stage. Just got to keep going. Thank you so much for your kind words.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reached up and SLAPPED me Saturday night as Gary and I were going to sleep. That was not good.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It never is. It really never is.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is such a powerful description – anyone who’s experienced loss connects with it.
Two close family members have lost partners, one by divorce & the other by death. There’s a time after when their worlds kept shifting underfoot. Hold tight…it won’t always be such a wave that knocks you off your feet. 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Laura. Shifting underfoot is such a good analogy. x
LikeLike
Love your closing lines. Keep both the buzzard and the crows in your life… there’s 2 crows.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike
I could not have said it any better than CAITLYNNEGRACE said it, so I will only add a Hug! Hang in … someday you will wake up and the sun will be shining again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It will I am sure. Thanks. x
LikeLiked by 1 person
One moment at a time, one day at a time, one week at a time… Grief is a process. Unfortunately, you can’t flip a switch and make it all better.
I remember reading, somewhere, of someone building a memory book. They had lost a beloved parent and gathered up everything they had and made this huge scrapbook of memories…cards, notes, bits of cloth, pictures, thoughts, sayings, nicknacks… I think that was back in the day when scrapbooking was big (before technology spilled all over us). It was stated that they wanted their parent to be attracted to the book because they felt their essence was captured there. Whenever they missed their parent, they went to the book to “visit”.
*Hugs*
LikeLike
Oh it still happens to all of us, Friend. The way Bo will laugh sometimes, I hear his father, plain as day. The way Biff stares at my own father’s Star Trek books longingly, asking about him, and there are only so many words. The coming holidays, seeing something and thinking, “I’ll get that for Dad” and then remembering…years later I still do that.
It does ebb and flow.
Hugs help. So, hug your son, extra tight. And know there’s hugs from Wisconsin for you both. xxxxxxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s good to know your there. Yes so true about ebb and flow. Certain times of year increase the intensity of this. We probably will always do that. xxxxxxxx
LikeLiked by 1 person