Saturday, December 26, 2009

I forgot about the day after ... Boxing Day 2009

Boxing Day 2000 - Dominican Republic

I forgot about the day after ... it's always worse than the day itself.

I forgot that you can't suppress* the feelings and the hurt.

I forgot that if you try so hard to battle through ...

that it's always worse afterwards.

I am so tired, yet I cannot sleep ... the tears have come.

The pain has come.

And it's all I can feel.

I can see these translucent faded water colours of him moving around our home - my memories.
I am willing him to be here, yet he cannot.

I miss you so much I can barely breathe.

Every cell in my body is screaming for him.

Every cell in my body hurts.

Every cell in my body feels as though it has been amputated from him.

Grief is physical, emotional, cerebral, and above all - primal.

It has aged me ... it's not a complaint, simply a statement of fact.

It makes you make noises that are inhuman ... they sound primitive.

You are suddenly aware that you have been rocking as you sit, just as the insane do, and that three hours have passed in what seems like a minute.

You lose yourself in the loss.

There are so many levels and facets of what you miss that you find yourself mourning new losses within the loss itself, always surprising and wounding you when you are not expecting them to attack. I shan't even attempt to list them anywhere because the list would be infinite.

I want to lay down with him.

I want to so badly that I can almost feel him.

I sense him near me trying to reach me but I don't know how to connect to him because he can't teach me. There is a flickering - of our souls touching - a connection, but it is fleeting. Sometimes longer, as if he knows. We could communicate like that, separated by geography when he was alive. It's tenuous now, but still present. Ethereal almost. And takes my breath away ... or do I hold my breath? I'm not sure which.

I want to understand**, but I know that no one can tell me or teach me, because no one alive actually knows. There are people who say they can talk to the dead, others who say they have had near-death experiences, but we only have their word on that ... and the person who I can completely trust can no longer give me counsel or guide me.

I have to rely on his voice within me now, and that takes strength, resolve and faith. It makes me agonize over every decision, because I am so desperate not to let my own voice lead me astray. I remember the lyrics*** to the song that he used to play for me 15 years ago, when I was frightened of getting hurt if I gave my whole heart to him, and they hold even more meaning, poignantly now.

This beast is relentless and exhausting. Like water, you can compartmentalize it for a while, then it finds its own way. I've got to let it out because ... I have to ... if I don't I'll probably end up sectioned or physically ill.

I just want to lay down with you.

I never thought you and I would be apart.


* Revelry - Kings of Leon

What a night for a dance,

You know I'm a dancing machine

With a fire in my bones

And the sweet taste of kerosene

I get lost in the night

So high I don't want to come down

To face the loss

Of the good thing

That I had found

In the dark of the night

I can hear you callin my name

With the hardest of hearts,

I still feel full of pain

So I drink and I smoke

And I ask if you're ever around

Even though it was me who drove us

Right in the ground

See the time we shared

it was precious to me

But all the while I was dreamin of revelry

I wanna run baby run

Like a stream down a mountainside

With the wind at my back

I don't ever even bat an eye

Just know it was you all along

Who had a hold of my heart

But the demon and me

Were the best of friends from the start

So the time we shared

it was precious to me

All the while I was dreamin of revelry

Dreamin of revelry

And I told myself boy away you go

It rained so hard that it felt like snow

Everything came tumbling down on me

In the back of the woods

In the dark of night

The Palest of the old moonlight

Everything just felt so incomplete


** my understanding


You didn't die

you just changed shape

became invisible to the naked eye

became this grief

it's sharpness more real than your presence was

before you were separate to me

entire to yourself

now you are a part of me

you are inside my self

I call you by your new name


'although I still call you 'Love.'

- Dónall Dempsey


***Have a Little Faith - Joe Cocker

When the road gets dark

And you can no longer see

Just let my love throw a spark, baby

Have a little faith in me

When the tears you cry

Are all you can believe

Just give these loving arms a try, baby

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

When your secret heart

Cannot speak so easily

Come here darlin'

From a whisper start

To have a little faith in me

When your back's against the wall

Just turn around, you will see

I will catch ya,

I will catch your fall

Just have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Have a little faith in me

Well, I've been loving you for such a long, long time baby

Expecting nothing in return

Just for you to have a little faith in me

You see time, time is our friend for you and me

Cause for us there is no end

All you gotta do is have a little faith in me

I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up

Your strength gives me enough

o have a little faith in me

Hey baby, oh, baby

All ya gotta do is have a little faith in me

All ya gotta do is have a little faith in me

A little faith in me


  1. I'm sorry you are having such a difficult time. I too am just sitting her realizing that time is passing by, and I am some how detached from it. Before I noticed your entry I looked over at the clock and was surprised that I had been sitting in my room so long. It felt like I had just walked down to my bedroom, yet it was over two hours ago. When I did I was feeling fine, then as I closed my door the grief took hold of me as well.

    I suppose we shouldn't be surprised by this, yet we are. I have been reading other longer termed widowed bloggers tonight, and realizing that we have a very long journey ahead of us.

    Try to do something to care for yourself this weekend. Maybe do something Cliff would want for you.

  2. I checked in on you earlier and saw that you were up late and wondered if the tsunami had engulfed you now that you have "got through" the day and been a good Dad.

    We do have a long journey ahead of us, I think that I can only focus on a small chunk of time in one go, else it becomes too overwhelming.

    I haven't slept all night, but I think I shall try to nap on the sofa for a few hours before I march on like a Spartan Warrior.

    Letting out all those tears has helped. I am calmer, more peaceful. It had to come ... it threatened to rise, again and again for the past few days, and now it has passed.

    What you described when you shut your bedroom door is what happens to me when I walk through my front door at home ... I guess it's a different door for you because you have children. I really admire you for that ... I can't imagine having to cope with their grief as well as my own. There again, I wish I did have kids to love - because they would be part of him. It's hardly an option now anyway, so silly to ponder it!

    I hope you get some rest Dan, even if it's for a couple of hours. Maybe your boys will let you sleep in without running around like little elephants through the hallways. I hope no one bought them a drumkit ;-)