Last night I fell asleep on your side of the bed listening to the rain steadily fall and gurgle its way down the guttering. It’s one of the few times I feel like you’re close these days; when the rain falls in the darkness of night reflecting the darkness within my heart. Your body, fully relaxed by the sounds, would drift off to sleep with ease and after a while of feeling you close I drifted off too.
I wanted to send this short note to you, amongst the sounds of the day stirring, because I’m missing the places and spaces in time that we once occupied together and every new day is like losing you all over again realising my future places and spaces will never have your presence intertwined within them.
There’s been a few conversations in my world lately with people feeling the same feels. There is no moving on, there’s only the ‘stepping into’ of a different life that’s now a different shape in present and future spaces of time.
I wrote these words to a dear friend recently with whom I share a common thread of loss that binds us…
“All we can do is be kind to ourselves, do what works for us and move forward taking with us all that it means to love them in the way we do, because ‘moving on’ is like closing the book of our life together and putting it on the shelf never to be opened again gathering dust and to me that’s incomprehensible – I prefer to leave the book open and slowly craft different chapters of life to move through and that never looks like ‘moving on’ for me, only forward, in my own way, in my own time.”
I don’t care for the term ‘stay positive’ either Doug, to be honest. I know it comes from a place of people wanting one to feel better and enjoy some kind of fashioned life from the ashes of personal challenge and hardship and I know it comes from the desire to lift one from sadness but it is a very, albeit unintentional, dismissive phrase of where someone is at in their life – it’s like saying “don’t dwell on things because it makes me uncomfortable to see you so sad and struggling with life so look for the silver linings instead and it will make me more comfortable to be around you and support you because I want you to be happy”.
It is uncomfortable to be around someone who is hurting and we just want them to feel better – I’ve been on that side of the coin too. But instead when I say “I’m here for you in any capacity you need” whenever I get the human urge to offer uplifting reassurance I hope the receiver feels supported in that moment – not compelled to look on the bright side for my benefit.
For the bereaved your loved one is dead – period - there is no silver lining.
And for those going through the anguish of a loved one in care, they experience the loss of ‘what was’ every time they walk out the door from a visit and grieve another piece of that person fading away before their eyes.
These are the conversations I miss having with you Doug.
These are the empty spaces that will never again be filled with cups of tea in hand, sitting beside your bed, chatting about all manner of things and our views of the world influenced by our shared experiences.
These are the places and spaces in time I miss in the drakness of night and the song of morning light.
I always will.
All my love,
Sandra Xx
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Hi Sandra,
We sadly had a few family members pass late last year so it may seem that I have not been around but I have read your posts. Thanks for your honesty x