Tag: Loss

Allez! Allez!

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Last year I watched the tour de France with my hubby. This year, for the first time in about 20 years I’m watching it on my own. It feels strange, no point in cheering on our favourites, no discussion about how Mark Cavendish will do. Just muttering ‘you would have loved this’ to his memory. I could switch it off, but I don’t want to. Tears will fall. I only got into cycling because of hubby. I miss him so much. He would be out cycling after this, a short ride to keep his legs going. He was over 70 and still enthusiastic. 70 isn’t old, he was young at heart. Disease not age took him from me. 😢😢

In memory

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I saw a prompt on Esther Chilton’s page “dreams” and decided to write a poem about loss to respond to it. Here it is.

In my dreams you are still here


I grasp your hand to pull you near


To say “goodnight” to you my sweet,


As my heart trips and skips a beat,


To have you here, to hear you speak,


That is the dream I really seek.


I know that you have gone away,


Will never see another day.


I’m in a dream now, holding on


To memories of you though you’ve gone.

Some books…

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“Some books are to be tasted.

Others to be swallowed.

And some few to be chewed and digested.”

Sir Francis Bacon.

A poster my hubby had before he met me over 40 years ago. We put it up in a frame and it really does sum up his life. Where I will read sets of books and I’m interested in biographies and art, sci-fi and science, he was interested in everything. He could skim read but take what he was reading in. He seemed to absorb the words like some sort of computer. He often read a book cover to cover in a day. He was an eccentric, an intelligent man, but not overly intellectual. He was unique and I miss him so much.

Happiness?

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Looking at these kittens from 7 years ago cheers me up. The sun is shining, there is a nice film on the TV. But I really feel down and anxious. I want to talk to someone, but everyone has their own lives to lead and I don’t want to bother them. I could ring up but my phone is on the blink. I talk but the person at the other end can’t hear me although I can hear them. I feel like it’s a metaphor (is that the right word?) for my life, frustrated and worried. Will things ever be good again? Will I find a modicum of happiness? I don’t know.

Alone

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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.

Letter to myself

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Dear Me

It’s been a horrible few days. I’m worried and scared, but I must try and cope. Remember to breathe, don’t hide away. Memories of other situations make me want to do this.

I remember my mom when my dad died, she sat on the settee in the darkness for three days, in the end I wrote her a letter and asked her to look after us, her children. I think that finally got through to her. She seemed to respond.

Writing this is just a way of talking to myself, but to share with others, maybe it is something to think about for other people?