The Grieving Jester

All those readers that have travelled with me since the beginning of my blog will be aware that I found the last week of B’s life very difficult. He was confused and agitated, I was stressed, and the support I needed was slow in arriving, and it took me a (long) while to come to terms with it. In the end, I realised that it was good enough. I did my best. B was where he wanted to be and his last day was comfortable and peaceful. This week, I seem to have been getting, what appear to be, random thoughts popping into my head when I turn my light out at night. Wednesday night it was a positive thought. It suddenly came to me: I should be proud that, despite all the extenuating circumstances, I was able to fulfil B’s wishes and that he was able to die at home. I don’t often feel proud of myself, as pride is something that doesn’t really sit well with me, but on this occasion, I thought, ‘yes’! Caring for B in that last week was extremely hard, to say the least, but I did my best for him. H...

Tuesday night I had just turned my light out and was lying in bed when suddenly the thought, ‘I don’t want to be on my own’ jumped into my mind! This wasn’t an ‘I miss B’ moment, and it felt completely shocking! I felt so guilty, and my head was whirring: it’s not even a year since B has died; how can I even think this; it doesn’t mean I love him less; I’m an introvert, I’m okay on my own; B and I were happy, why would I want to find someone else?; others have done it; how?; it would be so complex and scary – starting from the beginning, getting to know someone; the house, what about the house? (B is a part of it)!; and so on . It really disturbed me. It seemed so bad; so bad that I nearly didn’t write / post this, but I did promise myself that I would be honest. I turned the light back on and read, for two hours! B would be okay with it, after all, I was his second wife, and he would want me to be happy. I guess that because I’ve been happy once, I want it again, but at the moment it ...

 Well, to say Christmas has been different this year, is an understatement… Receiving Christmas cards was a bit of a minefield. Firstly, because they were all addressed only to me. Clearly, this is obvious, but it was the first time that receiving letters addressed just to me has felt irksome. I suppose it was the volume and the fact that most were handwritten – they emphasised B’s absence and that I am on my own. Secondly, and I’ll risk being honest here, before I opened each one, I wondered what message this particular card would bring – ‘Merry Christmas’, ‘Wishing you a Happy Christmas’? Don’t get me wrong, I was pleased to receive all the good wishes, but part of me sometimes wanted to yell, ‘don’t you understand that Christmas won’t be the same’, or ‘how am I possibly going to have a merry Christmas without B?!’ I was grateful for those that said things like ‘Best wishes for Christmas and the New Year’, ‘wishing you peace’ or ‘thinking of you this Christmas’, they seemed easie...

The main trouble with eleven months is that the next marker is twelve months, a year. ONE YEAR, but I will think about that next month!  Does it feel any different to last month? Not really, if truth be told, except that what would have been our Silver Wedding Anniversary happened, and in three days it will be my first Christmas without B. The anticipation of these days is not good but, as yet, I don’t know how to avoid it. On the whole, though, the wedding anniversary was a good day, with a visit to the London Mithraeum (just because I haven’t been there before) and lunch in a special restaurant with friends, who are always good company. There were a few tears in the evening, but not many. I lit a candle and remembered, but I also read and did other things. I couldn’t bring myself to listen to the recording of our wedding, but I did so the next day and it brought back many happy memories, along with a few more tears. It’s the hymns, always the hymns, that set me off! Gratitude and...

Today would have been our silver wedding anniversary. I am grateful that B and I had as long as we did together, but obviously heart-broken that he is not here with me to celebrate this landmark. I wanted to mark the day in a positive way and the idea of buying a silver locket came to me, as it seemed both appropriate and something that would remain meaningful. I actually found a suitable locket very easily, and somewhat unexpectedly, when out with my sister. Now, the locket has photos of B in it and I am wearing it for the first time today in celebration our twenty-four years of married life together. Now, I am going to meet with friends and, after a little excursion, we will go to a favourite restaurant that B and I used to visit on special occasions. In the evening, I will allow myself time to be quiet and ponder and, hopefully, I will be able to celebrate our life together. I may even play the recording of our wedding…   Anyway, a little while ago I wrote this poem and toda...

On the whole, December has felt like a dark month, what with the short, dark days, and what would have been our silver wedding anniversary, Christmas and the New Year looming, and yet, saying that, there have also been some days that have felt good. There seemed no particular reason why a particular day felt better than the previous or following day, but they just did and I was glad. I was beginning to think that I might just be able to start feeling happy again, until, that is, I started wrapping Christmas presents! I must admit, I haven’t really thought much about Christmas. I suppose I have been concentrating on getting through our wedding anniversary on Tuesday. Yes, I’d written Christmas cards, bought presents, and talked about food shopping with my sister, and these things had been alright. When I started wrapping presents today, though, it hit me just how different Christmas this year is actually going to be without B around. I had started to think that it was going to be okay, ...

How am I? That is a question I’ve been asking myself lately. In truth, I’m not sure that I know how I am. I do have better days now, though, of course, they are all relative. It’s all a continuum, as what is ‘good’ now, isn’t what ‘good’ was like before, and when it’s bad it can still be terrible. At the moment, it feels as though I have gone backwards somewhat. Some of the time, life just seems dark, with long nights and many, literally, dark days not helping. All those significant dates (see post on 24th Nov) coming up don’t help, either, although I’m beginning to hope / fear that the anticipation is worse than the actual days themselves. Life just feels dark. I am not depressed. I know what that feels like and this is not the same. Yes, I am less raw and, perhaps, I am getting better at carrying my grief but, if I’m honest, it doesn’t really feel any better, my heart is still breaking.  I find that I can now cope when others ask me how I am, I couldn’t initially, although I stil...