Grief is a wiley bastard. You think you’ve tamed him. Taught him to walk by your side. Then he lunges at you in the hallway and the photo that you walk past a dozen times a day draws tears. Your loss is new again and you realise that you haven’t tamed him at all.
Yesterday, I walked past this photo carrying a laundry basket of clothes that needed folding and it cut me anew. How is it possible that I will never see that cheeky bloke sharing a drink with the horse again?
I want to tell him that the Big Sister finished fifth in the cross country this year. I want to show him the terrible clip art that the cemetery gave us to choose from for his head stone. I want to hear him laugh about the kind of family would would choose a sow for their beloved’s plaque.
I want him to know my youngest daughter, to chase her across the paddock then scoop her up onto his shoulders. I want his advice. I want his company. I want to know he’s OK. I want some reassurance that one day we’ll be aware of each other’s presence again.
For all these selfish reasons, I want him back.
The price of having loved is an unwelcome unruly houseguest that won’t leave.
Grief is a bastard.
Grief is a bitch, bastard and all round storm cloud. We had those same stupid clip art things to choose from too. Sending you love, hugs, a strong cup of tea and the promise of a brighter day tomorrow. xxx.
I’m hearing you Amanda. Yesterday I had to throw out a little toy ironing board that my Mum had given my daughter when she was little. As I let it slide into the bin I realised that my kids now barely remember their grandparents. This filled me with overwhelming grief.
I’m sorry to hear that Melissa. It creeps up at unexpected moments, doesn’t it? xx
Big hugs lovely. How lucky he is to be remembered with so much love. xoxox
Thanks mate. x
Very well said. Sending hugs your way x
Thanks Nicole. x
I can’t imagine what you and you’re family have had to endure since your brothers passing. After seeing the video you shared and reading your posts, your brother sounded like lots of fun and very much loved. Sending hugs to you gorgeous. Xx
Thanks Bec. He was a fab bloke. I’ll collect that hug in person in a fortnight! xx
Biggest hugs lovely friend x
It’s sneaky and coniving; lurking in unexpected hidey holes, waiting to pole-axe us. We crumple, we unfurl, we go on, in spite of his bastardry.
Amanda, I applaud this very honest post.
And then we look back and wonder how we ever survived.
Thanks for the comment Roxanne. x
Oh it sure is. Cyber hugs coming your way
It is, isn’t it? Big hugs for you xx
Oh yes, he pops up when you least expect it. The things that you just want to tell them is the worst. Big hugs xx
Massive hugs. Thinking of you.
I know how that feels, I’ve been tempted to move my Mum’s photo from the hallway, but moving the photos won’t move the grief.
“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”
― Vicki Harrison
Hi Amanda,
Thinking of you as we are united in grief. My big brother (5 years older than me) passed away suddenly. We spoke every fortnight religiously for 1 hour – he lived overseas with his family – last time I saw him was a short visit in October 2014. It was his birthday on 10th March – he was in bed sick with the flu – he did not mind me waking him up – still wanted to talk a little, happy to hear me – I rang back in a few days time to see if he is getting better – he was on his way to the hospital feeling much worse.
His daughter rang me in 3 days time to break the saddest news – he passed away having developed a double pneumonia – was on oxygen but his heart gave up.
He was the best guy I ever knew – nothing can replace him – caring, loving and having the best sense of humour. We loved to laugh about our childhood episodes – know one knows us better than our family. Our brothers will always be with us in hour hearts.
Amanda please share with me your sorrow whenever you feel like it. It does not matter if we repeat ourselves, however trivial, we are united in grief. Our brothers are always with us.
Many hugs and prayers, Rene, Take care and look after yourself Amanda.
I’m so sorry for your loss Rene. Our siblings are meant to share our whole lives with us. Hugs to you too. xx
Thank you Amanda – had a very sad reminder yesterday – a cousin left a message on Skype straight after the funeral – my brother looked great in his akubra hat when the family gathered for the last view of him – he was very proud of his hat I gave him on my previous visit 6 years ago. Naturally I got very upset whole day could not focus on much else. It was 3 months since my brother’s passing. Hope you don’t mind me sharing Amanda here. Take care and many thanks, Rene.
The first months are the hardest Rene. Thinking of you. x