The Grieving Jester

Having been at home more recently, I have spent a bit more time on the computer than usual and I came across some poems that I had written. I must admit that I find it surprising that I actually wrote these as, although I like reading poetry, I wouldn’t have expected that writing it would be something I would do. I remember, though, that they just formed in my head, there wasn’t any effort involved. I guess it was just another way for me to express myself; I had to externalise my feelings somehow and, at the time, this seemed a natural way of doing it. Here they are in chronological order (including the one I posted at the anniversary of B’s death), and I think they demonstrate the rollercoaster of emotions that grief causes.   One More Day (October 2021) Today is another day. Some days I can smile, Others I shed some tears. Who knows what today will bring.   Today is one more day without you. One day further away from you. I feel sad as you disappear a little more into the d...

Over the Easter weekend, I read Claudia Coenen’s book, ‘ Shattered by Grief. Picking up the pieces to become WHOLE again ’. It’s one of those books that I wish I had found earlier. So much of it resonated with me and, whilst I had already worked out a lot her advice for myself, there were some really helpful titbits in it. One of these, I think, explains what I couldn’t work out in my last blogpost, why I have felt more sanguine whilst being at home with covid.  Coenen talks about the ‘ ”proceeding as if” method ’. It’s about undertaking activities that take you out of your pain, as if you will enjoy them, even though it might feel like you don’t have the energy or emotional stamina to do them, and how doing this can become a “ pathway towards living again ”. I thought, “yes, I have been doing this - making myself do it anyway”: going to church Sunday by Sunday, going to an exhibition or out for a meal either with a friend or on my own, going for a walk, going to the cinema, etc., ...

 Back in 2017 B made a brief appearance on ‘News at Ten’. He had just happened to be in the bank whilst some reporters were there, and he was interviewed by them. The interview was a matter of seconds, but there he had been speaking on television in his everyday voice, the voice I still cannot hear. I was reminded of this some months ago, when I was reading my diary and came across the date. So, I thought I would see if it was possible to get a copy of the report. Expecting to be disappointed, I contacted ITV. They got back to me almost immediately and told me that I needed to contact Getty. I emailed Getty, and they came back to me very promptly telling me that I needed to contact ITN. So, over the next weeks and months I sent several enquiries to ITN using their online forms and various email addresses. Not a dicky bird; not one reply! I have to say, this didn’t impress me, particularly as ITV and Getty had responded so quickly and been so helpful. Well, last week, I decided to h...

As I’m sure you noticed, Friday was 1st April. This date is noteworthy for a few reasons. Firstly, obviously, it’s April Fool’s Day. Secondly, at the beginning of any month, B and I always used to have a little competition to see which one of us could catch the other first to say, “pinch, punch, first day of the month”. I miss this! Last, but not least, 1st April last year was when B’s ashes were scattered. I knew this date was coming up, and had pondered a little about it as I wondered whether it would seem wrong to go to a party in the evening (I decided it wasn’t). In the end, though, suffice it to say, I forgot all about it until I got into bed early the next morning! I felt a little guilty, but I decided that B would be pleased that I had had a good day, and wouldn’t have minded that I forgot. This also made me realise, though, that I no longer think about the 22nd day of each month (the date B died) as they pass by. Since the anniversary of his death these have just slipped by un...

This last week or so has been a mixed bag and some bits have felt tough. I wondered whether I had been trying to distract myself too much, trying to put on a brave face, and thereby ignoring my pain. So perhaps I needed the bad sad days. There weren’t any obvious triggers, I just missed B, felt sad, and cried. The pain is still there! Perhaps, I was hoping that it had disappeared… After a while, though, things started to improve again and, on the whole, I felt rather happier. I was able to enjoy times with friends, going to a gallery, choir practice, the lovely Spring weather, even mowing the lawn (which was much needed). Sometimes, there doesn’t seem to be any reason as to why I should feel particularly sad, whereas at other times something just hits me and triggers my sorrow. A thought might ping into my mind, or I hear someone say something, or sometimes it’s a situation I find myself in, though it doesn’t help when I am tired. It feels a bit like how I imagine Alice felt when she f...

I have been reflecting a lot this week (and it’s only Wednesday!), and I have come to the conclusion that I have, probably, been trying to deceive myself… On Sunday morning I woke up feeling sad, not for any particular reason, I just felt sad. Perhaps, a more honest way of putting it is that I felt sadder than what is, now, just the usual background sadness and, perhaps, I noticed it more as I have had some less sad days recently. It didn’t occur to me not to go to church, which it might have done previously, so I went along as usual. The Gospel reading was about the raising of Lazarus, and the sermon was about emotions, what happens when we hit the wall and reach our emotional capacity, and the communal owning of grief and holding of pain. Our minister also mentioned that, as well as crying for the loss of his friend, Lazarus, Jesus might also have been crying for himself, which I found helpful, as I do sometimes think this regarding myself (I feel bad / guilty when I see all the te...

Since my last blog post, I continued to feel like ‘my old self’ for three days. I ask myself what I actually mean by that, and I suppose it’s that I felt more like I did before B died, I felt content, perhaps like a non-grieving Jackie. On the Sunday, though, my grief hit me full in the face again! I was at church and all was going well, I sang in the choir for the first time, which I felt good about (this is progress, I thought), but then a couple of small things upset me and my grief came welling back up. Of course, I was hoping the happy state would remain but, obviously, I still miss B. The background sadness is still there, rearing its head every so often. Anyway, the good thing is that the effect of the anniversary of B’s death has, at last, worn off It is difficult to explain what the difference is, but I guess I am now able to feel happy as well as sad, again, as opposed to just morose. I did have a small epiphany, though, as it occurred to me that sad days aren’t necessarily b...