Friday, December 31, 2010
I'm exhausted from crying solidly for the past two days and hoping that I've released enough pain to enable me to smile and particpate in the celebrations later today. I wish I was already in Australia because it'd already be over. But then I'd be nearer to the 6th January and the two year mark.
Bring on January 7th. And quick. That's when my body feels as though a fresh year has started. His death has overwritten the rules of time and the gregorian calendar. I've always been known to break rules. I was born for it.
Truth be told, I'd rather be with Deb and Kim this evening because they are having to withstand NYE as well as their wedding anniversary and the two year anniversary of Warren dying. I'm lighting candles for A and W and Cliff tonight. It just feels right. Besides Kim is flying and shan't be able to light one herself. This will ground me too ... remembering I'm not alone in this. There are so many - too many - of us.
After a long thought I decided not to attend the Pirate Club House music event in London. It would have been too much. It would have felt alien without him standing there talking to the men organizing it while I danced my butt off. I danced for him. And I don't feel strong enough to dance for him tonight. NOT YET.
Part of me wants to stay home alone but I'm terrified I'll react the same way I did a year ago. He'd not be happy with me. Today the silence in the house is deafening.
So I'm going to have a jacuzzi, drive down the coast and see in 2011 with his family.
Guess I ought to let them know ... along with a good friend of his. I need them tonight .... almost as much as I want and need him.
Here's to more peace and healing for us all next year. And here's to my beautiful strong husband. I miss you so much it's unspeakable.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The wave building its colossal force.
From the moment I sat in the car to drive home.
I wondered if whilst I'd been away, Cliff and Hammer (our dog) had come home, painting the house with their magical Christmas decorations ... like bringing memories alive, vibrant ... and thus showing us three together, happy and having a magical time ... and that when they heard my car park on the drive, they'd have to remove the tree, the colours and become invisible once again. Then watch me break, unable to breath, let alone stand up once I shut the front door.
Grief will have its way. I could see those translucent faded water colours of Christmasses past through the waterfalls of tears that fell, only adding to the tsunami's volume.
My heart keeps breaking. Over and over again.
We used to love sitting in the dark, mesmerized by the lit Xmas tree, content together, feeling the magic, feeling love. Taking time to remember the simple things.
I sit in the darkness alone now and I can't find his light in the darkness. I know it's there but the darkness is crushing his light. I light candles to symbolize his light. But the brightest star pales next to him. Why can't I see it?
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My beautiful god-daughter
My best g/f infecting me with magic
I hope the magic touches you too. Wishing you a peaceful holidays filled with light, love and heartfelt wishes that the memories of your holidays past sustain you through this one.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Hello Boo, I've just been reading through your blog after seeing your post of it and I'm now a blubbering mess. I'm sorry I've not said it sooner but I'm sooo sorry for your loss, I know that it had been a long time since I had seen Cliff but there was a time in my life when both you and him were very important to me and helped me a lot through an extremely hard time. It's strange to think of him not being somewhere, I still remember him how I did when I was 15 - a huge giant of a man who could take on the world, I've never met 2 people who were a stronger more loving couple than you two and always wanted that for myself one day so I can't even begin to imagine how hard this past 2 years must have been for you and I just wanted to say I'm sorry he's gone and very sad that I will never get to see or speak to him again. Take care and I hope one day if ever I'm down your way again we could maybe meet for a coffee or something xxxxx
Monday, December 20, 2010
I wrapped up all my gifts last night, and wrote out all my cards.
I used to love doing this Christmas stuff, but this year it felt more like work, a laborious time-consuming chore. If I'm brutally honest, it was painful.
That said, I'm glad I've done it. It'll be ok when I get down the coast and see family and friends.
But right now, being marooned, working at home again thanks to the icy roads, it's left a very bad taste in my mouth, or should I say, my heart?
When I finished, I went upstairs to run a bath and starting sobbing, speaking to Cliff, "it's not right. It's not right, there isn't one gift for you, not even a card."
We'd probably be buying our tree right now, and I'd be insisting on one that was too large, and he'd humour me. We'd be buying groceries in for the break. His gifts from me would go under the tree as soon as it was decorated. Mine from him would wait till Christmas Eve when he would go shopping ...
Still, I guess I've made progress on last year.
BUT. IT. HURTS. MORE. THIS. YEAR.
It's just sunk in to my frazzled and tired brain, that it's December 20th today ... which means ... it's Christmas this week. Yes really. I hadn't quite clicked how close it was.
And this year there will be no excitement at a minute past midnight (if that), when we settled by the tree, with a cocktail in hand, to exchange gifts. Both of us incredibly excited. No meats cooking. No decorations in the house ... erm, except the Santas that are still up from two years ago. And no, I still can't bear to take them down because he put them up. The picture above shows the one in the kitchen - this Santa climbs up and down the rope (well he would, except I disconnected the battery).
I opened two cards from my sister and niece, and all this Christmas confetti fell out - reindeer, xmas trees etc - when I ripped open the envelopes ... it was swirling around in the air, catching the light, and as I watched it land, I thought to myself cynically, "oh ok, the decorating's done for this year then").
I wanted to read Christmas cards that he'd given me over the years. I know exactly where they are, but I'm scared to start going through it all. I know it will rip my heart into smaller pieces.
So, instead, I put the snowglobe that he bought me three years ago on top of the TV. Now I have decorated. I sobbed when I shook it ... because he used to buy me these little things. Just because. Just because he thought of me when he was out and about, and he'd know I'd love something. Not because it cost a heap, but because it reminded me of being a kid.
I miss that. Having someone who thinks of you all the time. Maybe he still does. I know I do him.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
and some poems that you may identify with:
Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,
When children's laughter fills the air
I'm so glad I hold these memories,
Such a small little light the candle made
All the tears I've cried in all my grief and pain
I sometimes can't see beyond the moment,
I can wait for the tomorrow,when my sorrows ease
Saturday, December 18, 2010
This year I am not locking myself away from the world and ignoring Christmas. I had to do that last year, because I still wasn't sure if he was dead or not. This year I know he's not coming back.
This year is going to be harder.
But, I'm pleased to say that I have actually bought gifts and cards, and opening the Christmas cards that are landing on my doormat are actually not hurting me this year. Last year, each one was like a stab to the heart. I couldn't open cards, read texts, wouldn't answer the phone or the door. I sat there, day after day, stunned, broken, confused and wondering if he would somehow magically come back for Christmas or the New Year.
I'm spending the holidays with Cliff's family and my friends ... and I am looking forward to having those sleepovers, being in good company, sharing good food, and most of all taking a rest from work (because it has been manic ... causing me to work till 11 at night on a few occasions recently).
I think it's distracted me from Christmas.
In a way, I am looking at it in terms of sleepovers and visiting people, sharing a turkey dinner ... I'm not really looking at it as Christmas. I just happen to be bearing gifts. But it's not really Christmas ... because my Christmas died with my beautiful husband.
So, over this season of sleepovers I am determined to laugh and have fun. He'd be disappointed in me otherwise.
And I will admit the holidays are here briefly, on three separate occasions ... when I light a candle on Christmas Eve, on Christmas Day and on New Year's Eve. I bought these last week, ready to take with me. But only briefly. And then the silent tears will fall. They will wash away Christmas and then the season of sleepovers can resume.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
It's because it's too easy to pretend that he's downstairs, working on the house, or watching TV.
And I did pretend, or wondered.
I couldn't help myself.
Then I came down the stairs, wanting to shout out, "where's my beautiful husband?"
and hear him say, "here I am baby."
To feel myself wrapped up in his arms, a morning hug.
Have a cup of tea or coffee with him.
The simple things.
My heart is breaking all over again.
Is it because I sat with the neighbours looking at their tree last night?
Is it because I watched my neighbour build an igloo, and know that Cliff would have joined him?
Is it because I have cabin fever and have been stuck, working from home, since Monday evening?
Is it because I've had to walk up the little shop in the snow alone?
Is it because I still can't listen to Joe Cocker's album, "Have a little faith" ... because it will crush my heart, yet I know I should, because I need to hear the lyrics. I need to hear the truth, I need to hear Cliff telling me those words ...
Is it because I've got to clear the snow off my drive alone?
Is it because I noticed that my neighbour had cut back the trees in my driveway the instant I drove onto it. And if Cliff had done it, I wouldn't have ... because all I could see was him? That if my house had been falling down before, I wouldn't have noticed, because all I would have seen would have been him? Because he was and still somehow is my entire world?
Is it because I couldn't visit Vicki last night, as I usually do?
Is it because I'm still feeling bad that I didn't see his family last week, due to being ill?
Is it because I still find it hard, at times like this, to believe he is gone forever?
Is it because Christmas and the New Year - such a big deal for us - two big kids - is around the corner?
Is it because our friend John's son drove me down to the cashpoint, and guarded me, just like Cliff did, waiting for the money to come out the machine? Is it because that felt familiar?
Is it because, this year, I have made plans to be with people, because I know that he would not want me to be alone this Christmas, as I was last year? Because this year, I know that he cannot come home, and last year, I still wasn't sure?Is it because it's 23 months now, and a sharp reminder that it is almost two years since I looked into those clear blue eyes and that smile?
Is it because I came downstairs and where the snow has started to recede ... I could see the bright yellow cement mixer in the garden, along with the Spanish roof tiles on his shed at the bottom of our property? Little reminders that this is his home too. Evidence that he was here?
Is it because home is with him?
Is it because I so desperately want to go home?
Because I still identify myself as ... "I am Cliff Mayhew's wife." And I'm still so proud of that.
I don't want to be his widow.
It's such a demotion.
And I've never been demoted in my life.
I miss him so much - it hurts physically.
I miss our laughter, our fun, our love, our conversations, our intimacy, our comfortable-ness.
I miss not choosing a tree with him, and his patience with me, his good-natured acceptance of my child-like insistence of having a tree that is too large, year after year.
I miss feeling completely safe.
I miss his hands.
I miss our hugs.
I miss him looking at me across a room and winking.
I miss him.
All of him.
This snow has a lot to answer for.
Last year it scared me.
This year it has broken my heart.
Friday, December 3, 2010
I literally gasp with the pain.
Oh god no, and I am doubled over with the sheer pain and loss overwhelming me.
Tom Selleck's chest is too similar to Cliff's. Cliff's was nicer, but still, it reminds me too much of what I am missing, of what I have lost, of how much I miss him.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
I just donned my coat, gloves, hat and Uggs and trundled up to the little shop to buy essentials. The snow is really deep, and crisp. The pavement (sidewalk) wasn't icy. The air did me good, as the office is shut, I've been stuck indoors for a couple of days almost.
It does make one feel a little marooned and cut off from the world, however, I can still work from home, which alleviates getting stressed about that ... and it's quite restful. I can't control the weather any more than I could control my husband dying or not ... it's humbling actually.
I've decided to take it as it comes. To enjoy it instead of getting worried about it. After all, what option do I have. May as well choose a positive attitude.
I think Barney may disappear in it in a couple of hours when we go for our walk. I'll try and take a photo.