Today I feel as if whilst innocently walking along, the most colossal of waves has just crashed over me, somersaulting me round and round until after having fought so hard, I finally manage to stand back up and get my balance. I’m left with my make up running, my clothes disheveled and the emotions of someone who has just been slapped by a complete stranger.
But then, feeling foolish for expecting otherwise, I release that whilst I may be physically moving forward, there will always be dates and days, that devour me whole in the scale of their meaning and then spit me back out, a little tattered and torn and painfully aware of just how much passion and determination it takes to walk a solo path, that consistently echoes the sound of only one set of foot steps.
Father days, Anniversaries, Birthdays… all rolling in together. I wonder how it is that I expect a wound that cut quite so deep to have healed without a giant scar that doesn’t hurts from time to time, or wincingly and painfully sting, with the memory of its sometimes unbelievable origin. Or why the reassurance, from the kind and the loving, the caring and the good meaning have me suddenly cling even harder to the memories that I don’t want to share.
So today I write to all those whose breath is short with the absence of the ones they love so very much and to those who feel paralysed with the unexpected and disarming disconnection that the over ride of grief can cast.
And in the mean time I say do only what you can, breathe big and deep and wide, until the sadness has softened, the wave has subsided and you, amazing you……. are ready to get back up once more…..