From the heart – questions of grief

I find it ironic that I started my blog when I felt I was about to start a new chapter in my life. My marriage was over, lost forever, and whilst I believed (and still do believe) that it was the right decision, the time is marked by sadness and grief but also wonder and promise of how my life could change.

The irony is, I suppose, that I didn’t get there. That I lost something else. That now, even more than then, my life has to change. And of course now, I wish it didn’t.

My life exists on two plains now. The first is the every day. It’s a well worn treadmill. I walk it, run it, crawl through it, each and every day. The scenery is pretty much the same. I get up, I go to work. I come home and care for my children, my pets and my house. I see family and friends. I pay bills. I watch TV. I eat too much.

Of course my life is not exactly the same. The treadmill has shifted ever so slightly. My previous view has moved infinitesimally, so that only I know that it has changed. To everyone else… Well, to the outside world, everything is the same as it ever was. It’s a dream world of repetition.

The Other plain is the here and now. It’s sharp. It’s clear. It smacks me in the face and hits me in the stomach. It’s realisation. It’s the truth.

I can be on that treadmill for eternity. It can look the same. I can live an almost identical life. But it will never be the same. That knowledge is clear.

I have so many unanswered questions. Questions that can never be answered now.

Did he truly know how much I loved him? Appreciated him?

Did he know he was dying that day? Did he know we were trying to hide it from him?

Could he hear us when he died? Hear our cries of ‘I love you Dad’? Did he know that we sat with him til the end, holding him, loving him?

Can he see me now? Is my grief hurting him and stopping him being at peace or is he content knowing that one day we will be together again in a better place?

Do I really believe that? How will I get through this if I don’t? Why do I feel like he’s near me sometimes if he isn’t?

When will this get easier? Do I really want it to? How will I live the rest of my days without him? How can I be strong for my children when I can’t be strong for myself?

When will my day to day life become a reality again – when will I feel normal again?

4 thoughts on “From the heart – questions of grief

  1. Things are never the same. Things are always moving, shifting shape and changing. Feeling normal changes. Beliefs change. Feelings change. You need to bring those two plains together, otherwise you will have a chasm within yourself.
    My answer to that is always yoga, or meditation.
    Grief takes time, a lot of time. It comes in waves and spirals, and hits you whenever it feels it’s time.
    Don’t worry… You’re ok. It’s normal.
    But try to find something that will help you accept and live with those waves that take over everything in certain moments. I have found that you need that so that the treadmill of every day life doesn’t catch you unawares and throw you off.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think our loved ones feel our grief. I also believe they have a way to give us comfort. We love and miss them so much, the ache so new and raw we can only focus on how to get through it. Time and healing is what we need.
    Love is so strong, grief leaves us believing that love has ended. We must remember it hasn’t. It’s just changed form. 💕

    Liked by 1 person

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