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Each morning I look for you
Remember cycling behind you
Along roads we knew
I listen for your key in the door
Your footstep on the stair
The sound of your voice
“come to bed – it’s late!”
The times I didn’t hear you
Switched off and ignored you.
I feel guilty for losing you
Not taking care of you….
A phone call to say you’re Ok
I’ll see you today?
Coming back,
Not gone forever
The mirror is broken
Lost forever
And I’m alone.
Always by my side. Now I’m a widow. What a weird word. My fate was to be left behind. Yours was to leave first.
The cats keep looking for you. The house is quiet. No explosions of humour and excitement. Just full but empty. Echoing with your life. Your things are everywhere. Your books, your clothes, shoes, things. What do I do?
Lots of support, I’m organising and tidying. Getting advice. Looking for help. Trying to stay calm. Alert about my body, my health.
Time will pass, I will seek support, I must try and go on. Enough sadness for a whole lifetime has poured like molten metal into my heart, burning and breaking. But I must go on.
I just came back from choir practice.
We were singing quite a sad song and suddenly things got a bit too much and I found tears in my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. I know I was tired, and my arm was hurting, but I’ve never really done that before. But I stood my ground I could have gone out of the room but I wanted to carry on singing, so I kept my head down, tried to dry my eyes, and kept going.
I’m glad people let me get on with it, I know I would have got even more upset if someone had come over to speak to me and really blubbed! Emotions, it’s bad how they can creep up on you.
I’m not going to choir practice yet. I just don’t feel up to it. Singing is such an emotional thing. I just know if I go I will want to cry. I can’t face that yet. When I go back I want to be calm and a lot less stressed. Everything is so painful in my mind and in my body. I maybe should not share these feelings, but sometimes it’s better to say something. I don’t have the energy to worry about anyone else at the moment, and that makes me feel guilty.
To anyone else going through loss, I’d like to send my deepest sympathies, I can’t feel the same way as they do, but I do care.
As I get older I realise I can’t go back in time. Entropy, the movement of things from order to disorder. Things break down. Chaos increases. Things burn down. Look at the dinosaurs, they dissappeared. The Burslem Leopard Hotel is now extinct. My time there is lost.
Stop feeling sorry for myself.
Accept its happened.
Have time to mourn.
Try and recover.
It’s only a building,
Sadness,
X
Mallaband-Brown