Stones, and a reunion

This week has seemed a hard week. The days have been grey and the evenings long, and getting longer. I was due to stay with friends but felt below par because of a cold so postponed, so that didn’t help, but the main reason for feeling glum has been the remembering of happier times with B and our friend who died. These are good memories but, as I have learnt, memories can be bittersweet. Sometimes they can make me smile, at other times they just make me sad, and yet the remembering is important. The loss of both of them seems like the end of an era, though… 

It came to me this week that my grief is like having a stone in my shoe. It is always there and feels uncomfortable, but various factors, such as how tired I am, what else is going on, whether I am able to distract myself (sometimes this is possible, sometimes not), whether the sun is shining, and so on, can change how I perceive the discomfort. Occasionally, now, I almost get used to it; I can feel the stone but it feels small and I can live with it. At other times it feels like a pebble, bigger but smooth; I know it’s there, I can’t ignore it, and it hurts to walk but it’s manageable. At other times, like the beginning of this week, it feels like a large, rugged stone with rough edges that is very painful and makes my foot bleed if I try to walk. I try to shake it out of my shoe, but somehow, it’s lodged in a crack and won’t come out. 

This coming week sees the 40th anniversary of when I started my nursing training, and to mark the occasion we have a Set (class) Reunion coming up. I know this will be an enjoyable weekend, but there is a ‘but’ (why is there always a ‘but’ with grief?) as another of those double-edged swords appears. As part of the reunion, we shall visit Barts where we all trained. As it happens, this is also where B received his treatment and so we spent quite a lot of time there. Then, it was quite nice going back to my Alma Mater but, there’s the rub, going back to the hospital now has other connotations. I haven’t been back since I was there with B in the Outpatient Clinic, or having his blood taken, or queuing at the pharmacy, or in the Chemotherapy Day Unit, or in the Radiotherapy Suite, where each of those mighty machines was named after a planet (I loved that, it seemed so appropriate for B, as an astrophysicist). So now it’s in reverse, Bart’s now makes me think of B and all the time we spent there together, rather than my training and all the experiences I had there as a student nurse. Inside, it looks very different to when we trained, and now it feels different, too.

I’m also aware, that I shall meet up with friends that I haven’t seen for several years, but who I know have been / are reading my blog. I have to admit, this also makes me a little anxious, as it changes our relationship somewhat, although I know they (you) will be kind. Saying all this, though, I am planning on enjoying the weekend. There may be a few tears, but I know there will fun and happiness too. 

So, I try not to shut out my feelings, as I know the way to learn to live with grief is to experience it, to walk with the stone in my shoe, but there sometimes seems a fine balance between blocking my feelings out and succumbing to complete desolation. I try to go with the flow, distracting myself when necessary though, ironically of course, it is easier to distract myself when I’m feeling okay and harder when I’m feeling down. But, I try to live in hope. Tomorrow may be better than today and the stone may feel a little less rough. I know in time it will become smaller and smoother for longer periods; always there, but easier to live with. And, I am grateful for all those little rays of sunshine that appear and make life a little easier – a lovely bunch of flowers from a friend (thank you, J), phone calls and messages from others, trips out with yet others, reunions with friends, the sun itself (I find it makes so much difference), and little memories that actually make me laugh…