It’s been a tough week. I’ve been struggling without you and the pup and I’ve been keeping secrets from you. Seems odd to be concerned about getting back to full honesty with you now, but it helps me to know that I’m still loving you as fully as I can.
I listen to a song a lot called ‘Good Grief’, two lines get me every time, no matter how many times I hear them.
‘Sleeping in the clothes you love, it’s such a shame we have to see them burn’ I think about you being cremated in your wedding suit. It seems like such a metaphor for the life we didn’t get to have together.
‘Every stumble and each misfire, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more’. This week has been full of stumbles. I can imagine coming home and offloading to you and then I remember the stumbles I’m having are because you are gone.
Where to start. I had a triage appointment with the mental health team that I have been waiting for for 6 months, like your funeral, I had marked it as a point I just had to get to, like your funeral the space after seems empty and chaotic. I assumed that they would give me some kind of answers, the next step, but all they could do is refer me to charities. They all say how positive it is that I had done so much for myself that there was nothing more the professionals could do. Everything I’ve done though is just to keep me standing, not to move forward. I’m in hiding from the real world and I need someone or something to lead me back out again, gently and safely so I’m not forced to recoil if I venture too far or take a wrong turn. They can’t offer me that so I’m not sure which direction to go next.
J’s ashes are back at the vets. I have to pick them up, but I can’t go by myself. I need someone to help me hold the tube containing our seven stone, slobbery beast. As light as I know it will be, it will weigh too heavy for me to carry alone. I’ve decided to spread her with you so she’s never alone. It was always our biggest fear that she would get lost and scared. Even though I know neither of you are actually there and that she can’t be afraid anymore. It just brings me some comfort. I don’t actually know if I’m allowed to so I’m not going to ask for permission. I think you’d find that wild of me, the obsessive rule follower, the one that seized up when you told me you scan Krispy Cremes as Tesco brand donuts at the self check out because they’re so much cheaper.
I discovered that someone I considered a friend said awful things about me in public to people who love both of us. She said I was ‘too busy fucking S to notice you were sick and it’s my fault you are dead anyway’. She said it just after we said our goodbyes, you hadn’t made it into the ground yet. I guess for sure you know it’s not true, you were following my every move and reading my every message so you know what happened better than me. I don’t have to tell you the truth, you already know. It’s all part of the judgement I know is happening around me and a huge part of the reason I’m still in hiding. Any progress I’d made at peeping at the outside world, well, I can feel the doors closing again now.
And here’s the big one F, the big secret. I met someone and it was just exciting, and he seemed to understand me and not be afraid of the me you left behind or your memory in me. This one I kept quiet from you, unlike the last. I was afraid the feelings I have been experiencing negate my love for you, but I read another widows blog post today. ‘Moving forward, not moving on’. I could connect with it, the feelings of guilt for not thinking about you permanently but that it’s ok to look for some happiness with someone else. I might have to. It might not be this one, although I do like him in a way I couldn’t imagine before this month, but maybe I can start to accept that there will be one. They will have to be tough to handle all of me, including the bits of you and the things you left me with. This weekend was the first time I wasn’t sure he was strong enough for that, maybe he needs to know me better, maybe it won’t work out. You and I know I offer a lot of love, kindness and support to anyone I let at all close and they will be the biggest recipient of it. I hope that it can be enough for them, whoever they are.
So, there are my recent stumbles, I’m getting better at getting back on my feet, but the wounds still stay sore and I’m still wobbly without you to hold me up xx