The paradoxes of grief

Now we are allowed to have people in our houses, I have had a couple of visitors. This has been good on several levels: I have had good company, which has been enjoyable; one visitor went away with some more of B’s things, that is some ties and a partly drunk bottle of Amaretto (I hate the stuff!), and it is good to know that they will be used; another has helped me move my spare beds back upstairs and bring the big armchair, that replaced them, downstairs; this second visitor also helped me dismantle a very large wardrobe, which would have been impossible for me to do on my own. On another level, though (and I know I’ve said this before!), it means another little piece of B has gone and the house is becoming less his. This seems to be a paradox of grief, the letting go whilst, at the same time, trying to hold onto B.

Sometimes, I just feel so alone. I’m not lonely, I have friends and family I can talk or meet with, and I’m happy being in the house alone, but it’s just that I miss B so much. It definitely helps when I’m with other people, but I still miss him being there with me. I miss him by my side in bed (I now sleep in the middle of the bed so that there isn’t this big space next to me). I miss him by my side when going for a walk, when I’m just sitting watching the television, when I’m driving somewhere in the car, and, of course, when I’m in church. Going to church is getting a little easier, but I still haven’t got through a service without shedding a few tears – last Sunday it was the mention of weddings and relationships that set me off. I have to remind myself, though, that ordinarily I would have been going through this in the first month or two after B died, so the delay caused by covid has not helped.

My sleeping had been getting better, but this last week I have been falling asleep with the light on again, as well as waking up early again. There doesn’t appear to be a reason for this. I don’t mind getting up at 5.30 am, but I am glad that I’m not having to go to work.

I seem to develop little obsessions. This week it has been working out all the holidays B and I had, where and when they were. I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing this except, I guess, it makes our life together seem a bit more concrete, and it is good to remember happy times. It also gives me something positive to focus on for a while. I continue to add things to my list of memories of B as they spring to mind. The list is quite long now, but less things are coming to mind. It is good to remember these things, and sometimes they make me smile and sometimes they remind just how much I miss B, but I guess I wouldn’t want it any other way. That seems to be another paradox of grief, that being able to stay with and experience the pain actually helps, in time, to alleviate it.

The good thing is I am now getting things in my diary, visits to family and friends, visits to exhibitions, meals out with friends, and the future is looking less bleak. For a while it did feel as though it were just one big empty chasm. I know, though, that B would want me to carry on and live my life to the full, so that is what I shall try to do, even though he is not by my side. It sounds rather sentimental to say it, but he will still be in my heart.