I’m sure many have experienced the depth of sadness and undeniable beauty I have, in a pure and joyous moment of remembering — where both the beauty of a cherished memory and the pain of devastating loss can be experienced simultaneously – enhancing each to a level barely tolerable and yet you let the feeling wrap around you like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night while begging for more.
Almost two months on from losing my husband; and my days are still made up of moments like those mentioned above, that bring me to my knees, along with the more ordinary everyday ones that consist of making grocery lists, doing laundry and laughing at funny things. I imagine they always will be.
The kids went back to school yesterday and were ready and happy enough to do that. Our pace has been slow and gently gentle as we try to accept the encroachment of change and make our small steps forward. Sometimes missing one, sometimes not ready to take the next …we are doing the best we can right now. Knowing it is so early on in this part of our story –slow and steady is manageable.
Difficulties and Expectations
We have faced both difficulties I had expected and a few I hadn’t over the last eight weeks and throughout all of them we have been surrounded by an incredible team consisting of family, our friends and a community that Brendan and I had built around us in this beautiful place we live, over the 22 years we had together.
The kids and I know we are not alone in our grief and in some small, beautiful, painful way that helps more than I imagined it could, but it also bought misplaced responsibility and feelings of helplessness at not being able to fix things for others.
I knew my grief and that of our children would be deep and despairing and that I would wake up every day as if it were groundhog day, but I didn’t expect to feel the full weight of the grief of some who were lost and unable to navigate their own.
The guilt I felt at not being able to fix things for them because I was barely keeping my own head above water keeping my children and I afloat was a pain and frustration I wasn’t expecting.
In the end all I could do was focus on what I need to focus on…and that is our children. Trusting that in time others would too. My children are my priority, luckily the support I receive from those around us allows me to put them first in every decision I make, and for that I will always be grateful.
Moving Slowly Gently
So here’s to all the beautiful painful things we cherish and to moving through life slowly gently as we honour the past and embrace our future.
Bren would expect nothing less…and would be glad the kids and I are keeping ourselves busy, but would, I know, also like me to devote a little more time to some daily exercise. I’m working on it – I’m also hoping that walking a 45 kilo puppy everyday counts babe!
Thanks for listening