Sunday, September 12, 2010


Yesterday I had an outpouring (literally in the tears that I cried), which left me with an overwhelming desire to connect with Cliff in some way. I searched for old letters that he'd written me, cards that he gave me, scraps of paper that he'd drawn plans on (for the house), culminating in me looking through and scanning in some favourite photos. I even (gulp) looked though our wedding scrapbook and was astonished to find myself enveloped in warmth as opposed to pain, whilst savouring each and every item and photo contained therein.

Dominican Republic


wedding flowers

How oblivious, how blissfully chilled and happy. How I've aged ...

I think the firework did bring me closure. At the time it was surreal. But looking back it is very real. Clear. I have reached acceptance. Acceptance sucks. Big time.

I have now accepted on EVERY level that he's dead. That he's never coming home. Gone in a corporeal sense.

The proof is that I bought a replacement vacuum for the one that was stolen while I was in Australia, and yesterday evening I took it out of the box and vacuumed the whole house, dusted, mopped, emptied bins and wrote myself a to-do list for today (which is mercifully short).

Then I started looking around different rooms ... the lounge, the kitchen, our bedroom (should I say my bedroom?), one of the spare bedrooms ... and I could visualize how they will look, and most importantly what I can do on my own ... to make it happen.

Gary and Shaun need to put 20 more tiles on the roof. Cliff's brother John is going to do the kitchen and dining area, and "finish" other projects ... then I can start clearing stuff out and decorating.

His hard work won't go to waste. I'll honour him by finishing it off ... with a little (lot) of help.

And to keep it ship-shape, I've decided that when it's completed, I'm going to employ a cleaner once a week, and a gardener once a month to weed and mow the lawn, keep the trees in check. And keep the ivy from squeezing the happy memories out of our decking. I'm not lazy ... but I work damn hard and commute two hours a day. I see it as a trade-off. I'll do the basics, but the stuff like cleaning skirting boards and cleaning windows ... you know the stuff that domestic goddesses do, I just don't even consider, till it's staring me in the face, bringing shame to me.

I have the motivation to do this. I also accept that there will be days ahead during which motivation will escape me, and that's ok too.

Right then, off to get some basic shopping, do the washing and clean the interior of the car ... which translates to - removing all fur from the back seat ... BMW Emergency Services are swapping my courtesy car for another one tomorrow, and I've just noticed that the paperwork states I'm not allowed to smoke or have animals in the car. LOL. For me, those are the two things that I will always do in a car. It seems like an eternity since I've driven my own car. The new Mini is fun, but the novelty has worn off ... I want mine back ... the familiar. And unlike my beautiful husband, it can come home.


  1. i love the new vacuum. E. came and got her purses the day after my vac died. with her payment i went and bought a bagless Eureka. it is green and without the bags, i guess i am, too.

    it seems we are parallel these days with our feelings. i love all the photos. i find that i am without words this morning beyond i want us all to find peace. i wish only the best for you.

  2. yes I think we are S. Up and down, up and downer, then motivated, then bagless ;-)

    I wore your purse round my neck yesterday to give me a boost of strength. It worked!


  3. We are in the same mode these days, Boo. It used to be that after Austin died I'd tidy the garage (his domain) but never make any real changes because I wanted it to remain the way he had it (which to be honest, was a little unorganized). This weekend I've moved past that and I'm chucking stuff that obviously needs chucking and I'm reorganizing things so they work for the boys and I now. It's strange, because it feels right as we do it yet in the back of my mind I think about what Austin would say if he walked through the door. He wouldn't recognize many things and we'd have lots to talk about. And then I wonder why I'm even wasting my energy thinking that when he's obviously never going to walk through the door.

    I love your idea about hiring a cleaning person and a gardener. I totally understand what you're saying. If it wasn't for my boys mowing the lawn and my parents helping out a couple of times a year in the yard to try and make it as maintenance free as possible, I wouldn't be able to keep the yard looking remotely cared for. This house, this yard, this life. All were meant to be cared for by Austin and I and doing it on my own is often overwhelming. You do whatever you need to so your life functions like you want/need it to. I'm here cheering you on!!!!!!!!

    Love you,

  4. On the same page Deb :-) I do that too, but it doesn't hurt to contemplate what they would think, do, say or advise ... because it helps us to make more balanced decisions and forces us to take more time to come to decisions too.

    Oh god, it is hard doing this on your own isn't it? On top of the grief, and day to day life!

    Love you back xx

  5. Good for you, Boo!!! I'm glad that you feel good about making some changes now. I hope you love everything when it's done.
    Also, that is the strangest looking vacuum I think I've ever seen!! Does it work well?

  6. Great to hear you're making changes. Lovely pictures.

  7. It is good Janine, although it feels a little alien. The vacuum worked well - it's called a Dirt Devil! I looked up the Passion Play ... wow how amazing is that?

    Thanks Thelma x

  8. hey boo - your comment on widow's voice (yesterday) - exactly why I don't too! Afraid I'd end up somewhere not with him, nowhere good.