Today is a day for grief

I am not sure how to write this post.

I am not sure how acceptable it is in the world of blog to talk about the gut wrenching grief I feel right now.

As I sit here watching a TV movie of a woman whose husband is returned to her after 66 years of being missing in action, tears streaming down my face.  As I watch her hug his coffin, finally reunited with the man she so desperately loved, wailing loudly into the room.

Perhaps it is because I have been poorly these last few days.  I don’t do ill well.  I am not that woman who soldiers on.  No sirree, I am not at all.  I whinge and everyone in the house knows that my time has come.  I hate being sick.

It is because of this illness that I missed the anniversary of my mom’s death yesterday.  Until my dad sent me an email to let me know that he and my daughter were travelling to London to release balloons in Hyde Park – an annual tradition that we all do.  I had no strength to buy the balloons, had no strength to grieve.  My thumping head, high fever and vomiting just would not allow it.

I woke up this morning feeling a little better.  I managed to drag myself out of bed and even make myself a little something to eat.  And then my heart broke.  It has been four years since her death.  And lately it has consumed me more than ever.  Only a few weeks ago, I wrote about her on her birthday.  It’s a theme apparently, this grief thing.

Things are changing in my life.  Good things.  And I think that not having her around to share them with have reminded me of the gaping hole she left behind.  This grief has clouded me completely.

I decided that I need to fully sit in my grief.  I need to let the tears flow and my heart ache to the point of explosion.  I need to feel the darkness yet find the crack to let the light pour in.  God, I miss the light.

I need to find a way to negotiate a life without the sure footedness of her love for me.  My own identity was so inherently intertwined with hers that it has been difficult to find my own way without her.

This year I made the choice to consciously steer my ship, to point it headlong into the wind and face that stormy sea.  And since that decision I have been beset with health issues.  And as I have already noted I do not do illness well.

And this last bout of illness has seen me go to pieces, and then the grief set in.  And boy have I cried.  I’m pretty sure I’m dehydrated.

I have faith, though.  I have faith that there is light after the dark, that whilst it may take a little longer than expected time is a great healer.  It is called hope.  And I have always had it.  Even in my darkest hours, I have always had hope.  As sure as the sun rises after the darkest night,  I believe that the bad times do pass.  It is just sometimes I struggle to remember that.  I struggle to look to the horizon.  I struggle.

So this is me, writing about my grief.  It is ugly, but it is real.  I’m hoping tomorrow will bring a little more light.

Much love,

SHW Signature

 

 

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10 thoughts on “Today is a day for grief

  1. Your poor daughter heart, Sarah. Your poor grieving heart. You’ve suffered so much loss in your life and it is a painful sorrow you are sitting with right now. I hear you. I heart you.
    Cry your tears, it is the best pathway through grief. Let them have their ebb and their flow, let them consume you until you wake up in tomorrow. Just go with it, all the awful truth of it.
    …thinking about you…
    (please do drink lots of water!)

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    1. Oh Rachel, you have made me cry. Not from sadness, although that is how my heart feels, but for the connection we have over these cyber waves. Thank you very much for your beautiful words, they truly soothe my soul. Much love my friend xx

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  2. Oh, Sarah, I so feel for you!
    Have faith – sweet joy of remembering good times with your mum will slowly replace the gut wrenching grief… And you won’t miss her any less for that. “weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” Ps 3-:5
    Love, A xoxox

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  3. Oh sarah,,,,…if i could hug you…! I have never, as yet, had to feel grief like this. I am sososososo scared of it. So afraid of it. Like you..i lose myself in my emotions…they wrap me up in them, and i hurt and ache in my heart…when i feel emotional pain. I am no good at holding it in.I have no advice for you…nothing i can say. I am so very sorry. It will be okay, say it as a mantra….xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxthe light will come…

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  4. As the tears stream down my face, I wish I could write something eloquent or deep but I don’t have the same gifts that you have. I feel for you very deeply though. A part of me grieves because I didn’t have the kind of mom one celebrates with balloons and another part because I can almost feel what it would be to lose someone like that. I do know one true thing from my own experience and that is that there are no detours around grief. By accepting that, I think you are very brave. It’s strange how it works-you suffer and suffer and then there comes a day when you hardly even notice that the pain is gone. It just sneaks up on you and then the days get better. My heart to yours Sarah xx.

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