Someone asked me how I felt. They were being kind. Actually, they were kinder than they realise as it made me think, how do I feel? It’s the first time I have sat and thought about it. I shan’t lie, it took several attempts to write this, and many tears.
I have tried many times to explain the emotion, and faltered. It’s such a personal emotion. I am not an expert, not a counsellor, just a thirty-something who is grieving. This is the only way I can describe my own feelings.
My grief is like the ocean.
My grief is like the ocean, it is always here.
It is great and changeable.
Some days, it rolls in and out and merely laps at my toes. Those days I smile, as I remember happy times and though you are gone, I almost still feel you are here.
Then there are the days when the waves of grief roll in violently, knocking me off my feet.
I am hauled into the ocean, out of my depth, out of breath, struggling against a barrage of waves. I try to swim back to the shore, away from the turbulence of this grieving sea, I am weak. I struggle, scrambling in the shallows, my fingers clawing at the shingle. I feel so lost, so sad that you are gone. Angry that you left. We should have been old together, drinking tea with blue tints in our hair.
Then suddenly the calm comes again.
I am standing on the beach. Watching those waves of grief as they recede. The sun is shinning, I feel the warmth on my face. A gentle reminder, that you are gone, but I am here.
Tea and Biscuits
My experience of grief is that there are good days and bad days. I often remind myself that life is short. She would want me to live as exciting a life as I can, and toast her with tea and biscuits with a blue rinse in my hair if I am lucky enough to grow old where she did not.
If you have been bereaved, charities like CRUSE can offer help and advice.