Why can't I cry?
I crave to, I need to wail, weep,scream and moan. I want it all but it doesn't happen. I feel the the despair rise up from my gut, then I take a breath and swallow it all back down. I long to dissolve into a puddle of pain and loss, hoping that I might get some small measure relief from this numbing cloud I exist in.
My inner bully tell me that I am less than cause I don't cry. I tell my self that I didn't love G well enough that he deserved more, more than me. Maybe thats why I can't feel him near me. I know that if I was in pain he would be here. Is he somewhere relieved he is separated from me is it a choice the departed can make? Is there peace for him in my absence? Was I the burden to heavy to carry?
You tell me how strong I am. Even yesterday I was told how impressed you were that I was so tidy with my grief. I don't want to be tidy. I am not strong I am scared and alone with this. What on earth makes you think I am strong? Cause I show up for my job, cause I am not in foetal position, what can I do to let you know I am aching that I can't find a single thing in my world worth living for. I am in actuality messy, confused unsure, lost and inconsolable. I don't think I want anonymity anymore I want the world to know I am hurting.
I don't know how to tell you. It is as though I have lost my language. I am speaking but no one hear what I am saying or don't you want to hear. I don't need to be healed I need to be heard.
Thursday, 30 June 2011
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Sorrow
Sorrow makes us all children again - destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Statement
So today I did an interview and statement with the police, at the coroners request. Three and half hours talking about G and our life. My opinions talking to Detective Girl who who doesn't get the disease concept. I know she was just doing her job but do I really need more to think about right now? PS: the answer is NO. Now there is talk of an inquest what does that mean ? More it means more, more doubt, more questions, more scenarios for my hyper sensitive imagination to play with and yet more places I may have failed G.
Could be they are just crossing their Ts and dotting their Is, but me I like to take the smallest thing and run with it and I am talking a De-Costello run here a true marathoner of head miles, that is me.
So what is it the coroner wanted to know? Well amongst other things Did G ever talk about, consider, mention, threaten, try to end his life? Well here is a new play thing to embed in my brain. Could I missed that ? Did I miss that ? What were his last hours filled with ? Could I haver changed that...He couldn't have really could he? Was it that bleak baby...did you not know I was alway here for you.. I promised never to abandon you but did I ? Why would they ask that question? Is it standard? I don''t even want to write the S word but it is ricocheting around my brain . A different way to reexamine our last moments and days really really could it be. No, not G no no no. What did he say to the last person he saw alive that would make then ask that question....can I call L and ask him? He has already told me his abridged version of events that night but it doesn't sound like the G I know?
What did G and LL argue about (LL is the last person to see G alive). Why ? Apparently an argument ensued in hours before Gs demise. Not quiet the story LL told me in fact quiet different from what LL told me. So what was that about ? So argument....or fight ?
Lots of questions I didn't have 24 hours ago , so a new day and a new labyrinth of thoughts to navigate. Still no closer to acceptance if anything feels like I am slipping further away from it.Can I reach acceptance if I don't have the truth?
Could be they are just crossing their Ts and dotting their Is, but me I like to take the smallest thing and run with it and I am talking a De-Costello run here a true marathoner of head miles, that is me.
So what is it the coroner wanted to know? Well amongst other things Did G ever talk about, consider, mention, threaten, try to end his life? Well here is a new play thing to embed in my brain. Could I missed that ? Did I miss that ? What were his last hours filled with ? Could I haver changed that...He couldn't have really could he? Was it that bleak baby...did you not know I was alway here for you.. I promised never to abandon you but did I ? Why would they ask that question? Is it standard? I don''t even want to write the S word but it is ricocheting around my brain . A different way to reexamine our last moments and days really really could it be. No, not G no no no. What did he say to the last person he saw alive that would make then ask that question....can I call L and ask him? He has already told me his abridged version of events that night but it doesn't sound like the G I know?
What did G and LL argue about (LL is the last person to see G alive). Why ? Apparently an argument ensued in hours before Gs demise. Not quiet the story LL told me in fact quiet different from what LL told me. So what was that about ? So argument....or fight ?
Lots of questions I didn't have 24 hours ago , so a new day and a new labyrinth of thoughts to navigate. Still no closer to acceptance if anything feels like I am slipping further away from it.Can I reach acceptance if I don't have the truth?
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
How do I tell you
How do I find a way to tell you where I am? Here is lonely, while I am told I am not alone and technically I know that. It sure feels lonely. I try to find a way to articulate where I am at in my head but I fail.
What are the words to convey: ache, agonize, be broken, brokenhearted, sad, bewail, bemoan, blubber, moan, cry, sorrow, grieve, regret, guilt ,loss, lost, alone, fret, hurt, wear black, weep, endure,wait, miss, long for, crushed, fear, injured, lament, drown, rail against, abandoned, left, blame, depressed, pine for, anger, wail, scream, isolate, complain, suffer, sink, damaged, confused, suffocate, blackness, dark, dreamless, nightmare, peel away, raw, questioning, unjust, cruel, mean, horrid, terror.
Do these help, maybe for the blog but to articulate no not really but maybe it is a start I guess.
I feel alone so alone I cant connect with G . I Google , I ask, I pray, I beg, I plead, I consider going to a medium, I watch John Edwards (for the first time) and the Ghost Whisper (not for the 1st time). I read, study look to places I have never gone to before and return to places I have long ago discarded but nothing works. I consider will pharmaceutical or alcohol help me get there. Where is that to a place that I can turn to G again, to find solace only he can bring, back to the grounding he bought to my life, the laughter he imbued in my world. His warm chest. His voice so masculine and gravelly please just one more time. I would give all that I have and all the I am today for just one more hour.
The dictionary states to mourn or grieve is to be sadden by a loss. So if oxford can't explain it with adequateness's why should I try ? And anyway can you hear it ?
What are the words to convey: ache, agonize, be broken, brokenhearted, sad, bewail, bemoan, blubber, moan, cry, sorrow, grieve, regret, guilt ,loss, lost, alone, fret, hurt, wear black, weep, endure,wait, miss, long for, crushed, fear, injured, lament, drown, rail against, abandoned, left, blame, depressed, pine for, anger, wail, scream, isolate, complain, suffer, sink, damaged, confused, suffocate, blackness, dark, dreamless, nightmare, peel away, raw, questioning, unjust, cruel, mean, horrid, terror.
Do these help, maybe for the blog but to articulate no not really but maybe it is a start I guess.
I feel alone so alone I cant connect with G . I Google , I ask, I pray, I beg, I plead, I consider going to a medium, I watch John Edwards (for the first time) and the Ghost Whisper (not for the 1st time). I read, study look to places I have never gone to before and return to places I have long ago discarded but nothing works. I consider will pharmaceutical or alcohol help me get there. Where is that to a place that I can turn to G again, to find solace only he can bring, back to the grounding he bought to my life, the laughter he imbued in my world. His warm chest. His voice so masculine and gravelly please just one more time. I would give all that I have and all the I am today for just one more hour.
The dictionary states to mourn or grieve is to be sadden by a loss. So if oxford can't explain it with adequateness's why should I try ? And anyway can you hear it ?
Monday, 27 June 2011
Wish list
- I wish you would not be afraid to speak my loved one's name. They lived and are important and I need to hear their name.
- If I cry or get emotional when we talk about my loved one, I wish you knew it isn't because you have hurt me; the fact that they have died has caused my tears. If you allow me to cry, I thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing.
- I wish you wouldn't let my loved one die again by removing from your home his pictures, artwork or other remembrances.
- I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish that you wouldn't think that if I have a good day my grief is over, or that if I have a bad day I need psychiatric counselling.
- I wish you knew that the death of my lover is different from other losses and must be viewed separately. It is my ultimate tragedy and I wish you wouldn't compare it to other losses.
- I wish you knew all these 'crazy' grief reactions that I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness and the questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected following a death.
- I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. The first few years are going to be exceedingly traumatic for us. As with alcoholics, I will never be 'cured' or a 'formally bereaved', but for evermore be recovering from my bereavement.
- I wish you understood the physical reaction to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight, sleep all the time or not at all, develop a host of illnesses or be accident prone, all of which are related to my grief.
- Our loved one's birthday, the anniversary of the death and the holidays are terrible times for us. I wish you could tell us that you are thinking of them on these days. And if we get quiet and withdrawn, just know that we are thinking about them and don't try to coerce us into being cheerful.
- I wish you wouldn't offer to take me out for a drink or to a party, this is just a temporary crutch and the only way I can get through this grief is to experience it. I have hurt before and I can heal.
- I wish you knew that grief changes people. I am not the same person I was before my loved one died and I never will be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to 'get back to my old self', you will stay frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values and beliefs. Please try to get to know the new me - maybe you'll still like me.
Source Unknown
Sunday, 26 June 2011
Please excuse me , I am not here
So I ask you, as you look at me right now what do you see ?
As I walked my oh so naughty dog this cold and foggy morning a fellow walker stopped me to disscuss how our local council needs to do more to keep our parks clean. As I looked at him with no intrest at all at what he was jabbering on about I thought this, what do you see? Some woman walking her very hansom pooch on a Sunday morning ?
My reality is today is the 4 week anniversary of G's death my every brain cell is devoted to him , memories, what ifs, the whys, the what now's and the longing. Is there not some indication I can wear to make the world aware that I am not present right now?
How long am I permitted? This week my boss mentioned that she could allow me a couple of more weeks before she would expect full productivity from me, she also looked at me with some frustration as I requested a day off this week to attend a meeting with a detective to give a statement about G. Am I supposed to care that she now has to rearrange the roster ? What does the world want from me ...to "buck up" to "get on with it" ?
I am aware that I am walking every day among the grieving I look around and wonder who else is in this darkness with me? Is it you cutting in on me in traffic apparently not seeing me or is it you beside me at the local shops buying the Sunday paper and milk? How can I tell ? How can you ?
Even if you can tell, would make any difference would you be a little more patient, more gentle would you give more of your precious time? Would you take more care or would you avoid them to maximize your own comfortability? Would you intrude into their isolated world? Could you realize it is not about you?
Most of the time I want to be alone with my thoughts of G, but is this healthy? What am supposed to be doing ? There is no answers at the moment just lots of questions and feelings that I am doing this mourning thing all wrong. The universe and everything in it seems so pointless right now I just don't care. give me a warm box of my own to curl up in.
So now what ...well today it off to Sunday lunch with the Amazing A's mum and dad. After that buy the new doona (JAXIE ATE THE OLD ONE THIS MORNING ) one step at a time I guess
As I walked my oh so naughty dog this cold and foggy morning a fellow walker stopped me to disscuss how our local council needs to do more to keep our parks clean. As I looked at him with no intrest at all at what he was jabbering on about I thought this, what do you see? Some woman walking her very hansom pooch on a Sunday morning ?
My reality is today is the 4 week anniversary of G's death my every brain cell is devoted to him , memories, what ifs, the whys, the what now's and the longing. Is there not some indication I can wear to make the world aware that I am not present right now?
How long am I permitted? This week my boss mentioned that she could allow me a couple of more weeks before she would expect full productivity from me, she also looked at me with some frustration as I requested a day off this week to attend a meeting with a detective to give a statement about G. Am I supposed to care that she now has to rearrange the roster ? What does the world want from me ...to "buck up" to "get on with it" ?
I am aware that I am walking every day among the grieving I look around and wonder who else is in this darkness with me? Is it you cutting in on me in traffic apparently not seeing me or is it you beside me at the local shops buying the Sunday paper and milk? How can I tell ? How can you ?
Even if you can tell, would make any difference would you be a little more patient, more gentle would you give more of your precious time? Would you take more care or would you avoid them to maximize your own comfortability? Would you intrude into their isolated world? Could you realize it is not about you?
Most of the time I want to be alone with my thoughts of G, but is this healthy? What am supposed to be doing ? There is no answers at the moment just lots of questions and feelings that I am doing this mourning thing all wrong. The universe and everything in it seems so pointless right now I just don't care. give me a warm box of my own to curl up in.
So now what ...well today it off to Sunday lunch with the Amazing A's mum and dad. After that buy the new doona (JAXIE ATE THE OLD ONE THIS MORNING ) one step at a time I guess
 |
| Jax, the naughty |
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Where do we go when we die?
Today I feel so very lost I want to be with G so badly, the weight still lays heavy on my chest. As I look at photos of G the disbelief that he gone that I will never see him again is as strong as the day I lost him. When will his death become real and do I want it to. Do I need acceptance will acceptance make it easier. Why do people ask me what my plans are for the week-end the truth is I will be missing G, deep in thought trying to work this out. What do they think I will be doing...out social butterflying.
I want to know where G is right at this moment. I don't have a place for him to go I don't know what to believe in. I am looking for answers that will sit well with me and comfort me but there yet to be one. I suddenly find myself wanting to believe in ghosts and spirits. I beg to hear from him I need to hear from him. I need his guidance and grounding. I am missing my anchor to this world. Where do we go when we die?
Is there a heaven? Is reincarnation real ? Do we go into the light? What has happen to the life force that was G? Is there nothing? Does he feel, can he feel me, hear me...If he does why can't I hear him? The idea that my G is nothing but ashes and dust does not work for me. This has never mattered before but it matters now...it matters a great deal.
I still long to be with him wherever he is. Thoughts of how to make this happen are a daily occurrence for me there seems no point to a life with out him. This world is now incomplete for me there is a great gaping wound in my universe. I walk the streets still hoping this is some perverse nightmare still looking for him all the time.
How long will I do this, how long till I absorb all this reality. How long till I can function normally again. I have a list on my fridge of things to do each day to ensure I get through just basic things like shower and make my bed because with out it I seem to forget how to live.
My current survival kit consists of strong black sweet coffee, cigarettes (lots of them), neurofen, to do lists and Jatz. This is how I get through every day. Not very healthy but easy. I wondered today if I eliminated the Jatz how long would it take for me to starve to death???? Tell me am I sane ???? Almost 4 weeks I just want some relief if just for a short while.
I want to know where G is right at this moment. I don't have a place for him to go I don't know what to believe in. I am looking for answers that will sit well with me and comfort me but there yet to be one. I suddenly find myself wanting to believe in ghosts and spirits. I beg to hear from him I need to hear from him. I need his guidance and grounding. I am missing my anchor to this world. Where do we go when we die?
Is there a heaven? Is reincarnation real ? Do we go into the light? What has happen to the life force that was G? Is there nothing? Does he feel, can he feel me, hear me...If he does why can't I hear him? The idea that my G is nothing but ashes and dust does not work for me. This has never mattered before but it matters now...it matters a great deal.
I still long to be with him wherever he is. Thoughts of how to make this happen are a daily occurrence for me there seems no point to a life with out him. This world is now incomplete for me there is a great gaping wound in my universe. I walk the streets still hoping this is some perverse nightmare still looking for him all the time.
How long will I do this, how long till I absorb all this reality. How long till I can function normally again. I have a list on my fridge of things to do each day to ensure I get through just basic things like shower and make my bed because with out it I seem to forget how to live.
My current survival kit consists of strong black sweet coffee, cigarettes (lots of them), neurofen, to do lists and Jatz. This is how I get through every day. Not very healthy but easy. I wondered today if I eliminated the Jatz how long would it take for me to starve to death???? Tell me am I sane ???? Almost 4 weeks I just want some relief if just for a short while.
Friday, 24 June 2011
Why Anonymity ?
Why do I choose to write this blog in anonymousness and code ? Because I feels like so much of what I am experiencing is too socially unpalatable to discuss.
For instance you know that rhetorical question we all ask ... How are you ? Well how do I answer that, at the moment my standard response is fine like it always has been and then as I realize the asker knows this is not true I stumble and fumble with my words trying to finds the right phrase or how to explain how I really am. Do you really want or to need to hear the truth...that I feel like a bessar block has been placed on my chest and I cant get it off, that the weight there 24 hours a a day makes me feel like I cant breathe. That this block has been there since day one and does not seem to be lifting anytime soon. Do you want to hear that I pray for God to come get me because living feels pointless without G, that when I talk to G I keep begging him to come get me. Or how often my thoughts drift to ways of taking my own life...thoughts like I must remember to Google how long it will take to gas myself or if I were just time my acceleration into the merge lane that I use every day going to work that I could cause a truck or bus to collide with the drive side of my car at 60kph would that take me to him. Or if that pain in my chest is really a cardiac arrest on the threshold.
So when you ask me how I ask me how I am, I will tell you, I don't know and that is my truth as what I am telling you is I don't know how to tell you how I am or how to make sense of my world. That I don't know how you would take it if I allowed you into my reality.
Anonymity allows me the freedom to tell the world that although there is a lost part of me that appreciates all the gestures of kindness and love that currently they can also piss me off and do my head in. Like the need you all have to feed me, if I lose a couple of kilos it will not kill me and it is not like I am unaware that I need to eat I can't tell you how many meals I have made for myself only to look at the plate and then place it on the floor for Jax to eat, this makes him happy (mental note longer walks for Jaxie). When people share with me their guilt at not spending more time with G before he died, I will make the appropriate noises and remind you that G was never one to hold a grudge or make judgment about your choices that he had the most generous spirit I had ever met....but there is also that instinctive protective part of me that wants to shout at and berate you for not trying to understand the kind of man my G was, for not being nicer to him.
It will allow me to make fun of the inane stupid advice I get, while I understand that you need to make the socially nice comments and you genuinely are trying to share wisdom with me. What your saying is pointless believe me this advice is a post to itself .
The namelessness of this blog permits me to vent my clouded judgement of the world and its inhabitants at the moment and hopefully not cause any pain to anyone because at this point in time this is my reality. That in my grief my truth is socially unacceptable and cruel. It is confusion, pain and torment and as you stand before me with your wounded eyes I do not need to lay this upon you. This is not your fault and you are trying to love me so instead here it is. I will not apologize this is where I can be the true me just for a little while.
And this I appreciate
For instance you know that rhetorical question we all ask ... How are you ? Well how do I answer that, at the moment my standard response is fine like it always has been and then as I realize the asker knows this is not true I stumble and fumble with my words trying to finds the right phrase or how to explain how I really am. Do you really want or to need to hear the truth...that I feel like a bessar block has been placed on my chest and I cant get it off, that the weight there 24 hours a a day makes me feel like I cant breathe. That this block has been there since day one and does not seem to be lifting anytime soon. Do you want to hear that I pray for God to come get me because living feels pointless without G, that when I talk to G I keep begging him to come get me. Or how often my thoughts drift to ways of taking my own life...thoughts like I must remember to Google how long it will take to gas myself or if I were just time my acceleration into the merge lane that I use every day going to work that I could cause a truck or bus to collide with the drive side of my car at 60kph would that take me to him. Or if that pain in my chest is really a cardiac arrest on the threshold.
So when you ask me how I ask me how I am, I will tell you, I don't know and that is my truth as what I am telling you is I don't know how to tell you how I am or how to make sense of my world. That I don't know how you would take it if I allowed you into my reality.
Anonymity allows me the freedom to tell the world that although there is a lost part of me that appreciates all the gestures of kindness and love that currently they can also piss me off and do my head in. Like the need you all have to feed me, if I lose a couple of kilos it will not kill me and it is not like I am unaware that I need to eat I can't tell you how many meals I have made for myself only to look at the plate and then place it on the floor for Jax to eat, this makes him happy (mental note longer walks for Jaxie). When people share with me their guilt at not spending more time with G before he died, I will make the appropriate noises and remind you that G was never one to hold a grudge or make judgment about your choices that he had the most generous spirit I had ever met....but there is also that instinctive protective part of me that wants to shout at and berate you for not trying to understand the kind of man my G was, for not being nicer to him.
It will allow me to make fun of the inane stupid advice I get, while I understand that you need to make the socially nice comments and you genuinely are trying to share wisdom with me. What your saying is pointless believe me this advice is a post to itself .
The namelessness of this blog permits me to vent my clouded judgement of the world and its inhabitants at the moment and hopefully not cause any pain to anyone because at this point in time this is my reality. That in my grief my truth is socially unacceptable and cruel. It is confusion, pain and torment and as you stand before me with your wounded eyes I do not need to lay this upon you. This is not your fault and you are trying to love me so instead here it is. I will not apologize this is where I can be the true me just for a little while.
And this I appreciate
Thursday, 23 June 2011
The Horrible Week
So let me fill you in about the past 25 days, 1pm Sunday the 29th May 2011 as I sat curled up watching some Aussie cop reality show I saw a police car pull up in front of my house and recall thinking what kind of trouble had G gotten into this time. As I stood behind the screen door with the usual amount of disdain I reserve for times like these and my staffy, Jax bristling between me and them. The large blond female officer told me she had a message for me... still no inkling what was coming as my phone had been switched off for a couple of days I presumed bail was needed but ....oh no the next words she spoke were those I don't think I or anyone else ever really expects that G (full name offical inserted) has passed away. What are those words anyway passed away, get fu*ked really passed away?
I am still not really sure ensued in the next 15 or so mins I can remember not being able to breathe, think or cry, so very sure they has misidentified the man I love there MUST be some mistake but they assured me there was no mistake. These two poor unfortunate bearers of news hung around for the perfunctory 30 mins or so before pressing a couple of cards with the name of the constable who had attended the scene of G's last hours and left with a promise to call and check I was OK ....still waiting for that call ha!!!
I stood in my lounge room waiting for I don't what or for how long, before I switched on my phone and called A the amazing, who had 4 weeks ago moved 3300kms away. And while this darling woman was doing the mundane bothersome chore of buying vegetarian, lactose free groceries in woollies, I splinter both of our lives as I share the chaos that my life has become in moments. I believe I uttered the hardest words that have ever passed my lips I still struggle to say it out loud. G has died!!!
So much distance between me and the only person in the world I could tell this to, was agonizing I wanted her needed her like I never have before I recall really not knowing what I was supposed to do now. So I waited watching the clock tick as I knew his parents were going to call or were they I could not be the one to tell them that their son had gone. I held my breath for 3 hours as I waited till the moment i they dialed my number and I was amazed at their concern for me and their lack of blame.
The first night I slept surprisingly enough and as the sun rose on new day in a whole new world, the phones calls and texts started to come filled with disbelieving sympathy. That same morning , task 1 for the day I spoke the coroners that where G was right now, they told me that I could come to see him before the postmortem. This was thew only time I could do this as G had Hepatitis C they would not close his body up again after they violated it with their autopsy. I had a major melt down about this seriously they couldn't be serious could they. How could they possibly treat me my love with such disregard and disrespect but I could not stop it nor could I pay them to correct it, So after hours of anguish and begging I made the appointment to go see G.
This day,day 2 was when the looks started , as people began to hear the news they would look at me with wounded eyes filled with sympathy and pity. Mumbling the words "I don't know what to say" well guess what I sure as hell don't either. I am still getting those looks I hate it, I am so sorry you are uncomfortable with the pain I am in, I am so sorry you don't have the words to ease my world. God I loathe it when you look at me I know why widows wear veils. This was a very very long day. Calls and look - looks and calls. But A the amazing tells me she will be at my side tomorrow night, thank you god thank you thank you.
Day 3: so off to the coroners to see G with Big C in tow for support and to possibly make sure I do not try to kipnapp my love and take him home where he belongs. I was still so very sure it would not be him and that the police had really screwed it up. As I sat in this sterile ante room my assigned forensic support person Michelle who explained what I would see when she opened the door between us, the fact is that the moment I knew that G ans I were only separated by the gyprock wall anything she said was drowned out by my need to get into that room. So finally she opened the door I was so so sure that it would be some stranger laying there, but my first glimpse screamed at me it wasn't to be. First through the opening door I was his tattooed sleeve OMFG!!!! I recoiled several steps into the broad chest of Big C before I inched towards the now opened door As I stood there taking in that it really was my G laying there I felt drawn to him. One hour she had said I could have one hour, I recall thinking that there was no way I could spend a whole hour in there.
G lay before me on a gurney of some sort dressed in a white hospital gown he had been tucked in with hospital sheets and blankets. His arms out of the covers laying on his chest (writing these words are causing my chest to hurt) I stood beside him looking for a while he looked asleep his lips seemed odd pressed together I want to see his teeth .... I reached tentatively out to touch his skin and while I had heard the dead were cold to touch he was icy like just out of the fridge, the need to warm him was overwhelming. I slowly started to stroke his head he had always loved it when I did this (sharing this is harder that I thought it would be) I cried, I talked, I kissed, I tried to smell him, tried to breathe him deep into my lungs, I pleaded, sobbed, hugged and my hour slipped away like seconds and I had to leave. The awesome Big C whispered to me that I should let G know that I forgave him. Forgive what I asked nothing to forgive but I said the words and in hindsight I am glad G would have needed those words he never wanted to ever cause me a heartbeat of pain...........and I walked away from the man I love.
(so sorry thought I could do all of this in one sitting but I can't . I will be back )
15/6/11 7.06pm
I'm back....
You know at the time I found spending time with G at the morgue kinf of comforting not what I expected but was so anyhow.
The evening of day 3 the Amazing A flew in from the territory to be with me, this is what I needed more than anything I could have. When she hugged me it was the first time I had breathed in three days. This is the woman I do life with she is my mate, my secret vault, she know who I am and loves me anyway...she is my blessing. G would be please she was here.
Day 4 Buying a dress for the funeral .... I love love shopping but today all I needed was a black dress with no care for how it looked I just needed a black dress that fitted me.... G hated it when I wore black he loved colour he love it when I wore red or purple but for this it was black. why I didn't choose something for him I have no idea...I suppose social acceptability.
The evening of Day 4 G's parents arrive from Queensland and we were to meet the Minister (Bob) as I walked in to the lobby of the hotel , there sitting with his parents was his sister. The sister he had not spoken to for over 5 years the sister he had no interest in reconnecting with, the sister whose last conversation with her brother was her berating him for a kindness he had shown to her children. I didn't know she would be there. Not sure how I felt upon seeing her but her she was. As we spoke to Bob about the funeral service his sister weighed in with her opinion of what G would have wanted, I could not believe she was so incredibly wrong about her brother how could she possibly have no idea of who he was and what he believed. This saddened me so that she had missed out on knowing this beautiful man she only knew of his dramas in life it also made me incredibly grateful that G had chosen to share his life with me. The details were worked out. words, speakers and music selected. Was this really happening was I really doing this ?
The sister drove me home after dinner looking for solace in her sadness, I hope said the right words the ones I am sure G wanted me to say. I left her with the knowledge that G was never one to bear grudges he only ever forgave, it was what G did is forgive.
Day 5 The funeral home...OMG the Amazing A drove us to this place it was all blurry details and along with his parents we worked them out the chapel, the papers for the death certificate, the list of organizations to notify..the newspaper notification, the order of service booklet the flowers for the day wither roses from me and yellow from his mother... and then it was time to choose the casket I had forgotten about this, how I don 't know but I had.Somehow I found my self standing in a showroom, listening as the features of each coffin and casket was being spewed at me. As parent suggest a rosewood casket and looked for my approval. My concerns were at the thickness of the mattress and how small the pillow was. I asked that they remove the plastic lining as he was being cremated and I did not want it melt on him as the director explain that due to health regulation they could not do this,,,,I lost it ran from the room gasping to breathe I cant do this I can not choose a box to lay my lover in not possible ...God please make this stop please correct my world please please please. The Amazing A held me close till the gasping and sobbing subsided totally exhausted I just nodded at all the other decisions to be made. No one should ever have to do this no one.
Dinner tonight with friends in Manly our old stomping ground. Don't know what I ate or where we went or who was there aside from my 3 angle girls who held me up, fed me, loved me and made me walk up the steepest hill on the northern beaches. These women had been a part of the fabric of my life both with and before G we have celebrated Christmastime, birthdays, anniversaries success's we had wept together, laughed and giggled, shouted and stamped these were my allies. I love each and everyone of the. And here they were for me grieving too and loving me. So home, with friends in tow to my Jaxie who upon being so excited to have a house full of visitor manage to turn on the stove and almost burn the kitchen down.
Day 6 THE FUNERAL
26/6/11 8.47pm
The morning dawns and I can not believe I have to do this today as the rest of the house lay sleeping I consider running away as far away as I can, as this will somehow not make this day happen. I talk to G in my thought ask for help from somewhere to just be able to stay upright.
We dress in silence, getting ready with the girls as we have done a hundred times before. Though today there is no animated chatter no laughter, no joy in being together like this. For once we are all ready early (this has never happen before) and then we sit, they are looking at me as though I am going to implode I check so many times that I have everything...but of course I don't there is no G to wait for as he primps, preens and changes her shirt four time. Feeling adrift I stare at the TV ,something anything to occupy me hoping they will stop looking at me and exchanging those concerned glances. Then from video hits come AC/DC...Highway to Hell.....what else. G would think this is soooo funny, he was alway an anxious and inappropriate comic in times of extreme stress, OMG he would have love the irony of this song right now. And as we look at each other I realize I am with exactly the right people cause they get this too with no words they just get it.
We go to pick up the gibberers I ordered from the florist as standing around all three in black head to toe making the poor girl in florist crazy, I am sent outside for a cigarette away from the poor flower girl trying to do her job. Amazing A is in a fluster and I don't know what about her tears and hugs confuse me what can be wrong? Could I really have been so blinded by my grief that I could no see anyone else's pain, the answer is apparently yes. As I write this I am beginning to see that I am consumed by this with no consideration for others. So I learn grief is selfish ...now there a post topic.
We drive to the chapel , seeing family and friend I move into social mode ...Hi ..yes I am good and you,,,how are the kids....oh my god how are the kids....yes it's been too long....It is so sad...WHAT THE!!!! why do we do that? Then I see G brother from queensland he hug's me and his size reminds me of G the back of his skull fits into my hand exactly the same way G's does, and I feel the stabbing pain in my chest my throat closing up again like I have swallowed glass. Can I really do this?
I am told that I need to go into the chapel before the service, do I have to ...yes I am told. I walk through the door but nothing prepares me for this sight, I try to back out but Amazing A's arms are around me supporting me guiding me forward. That sight his casket before me laid out with the flowers we chose...it looks too small for my big strong G, he must be squashed inside they assure me he isn't but I so desperately want to open it and check.
I sit before him and all I want is to crawl into that casket to be with him, is that morbid is it wrong do normal people this thoughts like that? I don't leave again I just sit in front of him waiting, faces pass in front of me all with that look the service starts and words are said there are people moving around none of it registers I just stare at that rosewood casket know he is so close. My mind is screaming GET UP , GET UP BABY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WAKE UP . This is not real it can't be not real not real not real not real not real not real.
When his photo montage starts I come back into my body for a bit as I am mermerised by his images, his smiles, his eyes, the colour of his skin, his tattoos, his favorite shirts our holidays, christmas's , bithdays's so many memories of him. I feel my bodt relax into the horrid pew I want this to last forever but it wont and doesn't, the music ceases more words and then they start to take him away. I think about how I could grab the casket and run away , an image of me running up Windsor road with G's in tow flashes though my mind. They place him in the herse, I think abiut getting in the car with them would they let me? I follow as far as I can before someone blocks me from going any futhur they try and hug me but I pull away this is NOT OK.
There are faces, kind words, sweet stories of G, there is baclava the love it, there are cigarette and futrile attempts to escape from people. There are invite and expectations the will never be met. There are promises made that will never be kept. There is the need to comfort one another that will too wane with time. And the entire time I am begging pleading in my mind for this to be a dreadful nightmare that I will wake up from and talk to G about please let this be so. Maybe I am in some coma like an episode from Grey's and I will wake up with fanciful tales to tell. All in all it is a blur like the week that has gone before.
Then we are home I feel nothing numb and sleepy, just numb and sleepy I crawl into bed for a nana nap thinking please let me never wake again.
So this has been that week .... lots of things to do , tasks gave me a purpose but now where do I go from here. They all go home and I am left with me and my thoughts of G......
I am still not really sure ensued in the next 15 or so mins I can remember not being able to breathe, think or cry, so very sure they has misidentified the man I love there MUST be some mistake but they assured me there was no mistake. These two poor unfortunate bearers of news hung around for the perfunctory 30 mins or so before pressing a couple of cards with the name of the constable who had attended the scene of G's last hours and left with a promise to call and check I was OK ....still waiting for that call ha!!!
I stood in my lounge room waiting for I don't what or for how long, before I switched on my phone and called A the amazing, who had 4 weeks ago moved 3300kms away. And while this darling woman was doing the mundane bothersome chore of buying vegetarian, lactose free groceries in woollies, I splinter both of our lives as I share the chaos that my life has become in moments. I believe I uttered the hardest words that have ever passed my lips I still struggle to say it out loud. G has died!!!
So much distance between me and the only person in the world I could tell this to, was agonizing I wanted her needed her like I never have before I recall really not knowing what I was supposed to do now. So I waited watching the clock tick as I knew his parents were going to call or were they I could not be the one to tell them that their son had gone. I held my breath for 3 hours as I waited till the moment i they dialed my number and I was amazed at their concern for me and their lack of blame.
The first night I slept surprisingly enough and as the sun rose on new day in a whole new world, the phones calls and texts started to come filled with disbelieving sympathy. That same morning , task 1 for the day I spoke the coroners that where G was right now, they told me that I could come to see him before the postmortem. This was thew only time I could do this as G had Hepatitis C they would not close his body up again after they violated it with their autopsy. I had a major melt down about this seriously they couldn't be serious could they. How could they possibly treat me my love with such disregard and disrespect but I could not stop it nor could I pay them to correct it, So after hours of anguish and begging I made the appointment to go see G.
This day,day 2 was when the looks started , as people began to hear the news they would look at me with wounded eyes filled with sympathy and pity. Mumbling the words "I don't know what to say" well guess what I sure as hell don't either. I am still getting those looks I hate it, I am so sorry you are uncomfortable with the pain I am in, I am so sorry you don't have the words to ease my world. God I loathe it when you look at me I know why widows wear veils. This was a very very long day. Calls and look - looks and calls. But A the amazing tells me she will be at my side tomorrow night, thank you god thank you thank you.
Day 3: so off to the coroners to see G with Big C in tow for support and to possibly make sure I do not try to kipnapp my love and take him home where he belongs. I was still so very sure it would not be him and that the police had really screwed it up. As I sat in this sterile ante room my assigned forensic support person Michelle who explained what I would see when she opened the door between us, the fact is that the moment I knew that G ans I were only separated by the gyprock wall anything she said was drowned out by my need to get into that room. So finally she opened the door I was so so sure that it would be some stranger laying there, but my first glimpse screamed at me it wasn't to be. First through the opening door I was his tattooed sleeve OMFG!!!! I recoiled several steps into the broad chest of Big C before I inched towards the now opened door As I stood there taking in that it really was my G laying there I felt drawn to him. One hour she had said I could have one hour, I recall thinking that there was no way I could spend a whole hour in there.
G lay before me on a gurney of some sort dressed in a white hospital gown he had been tucked in with hospital sheets and blankets. His arms out of the covers laying on his chest (writing these words are causing my chest to hurt) I stood beside him looking for a while he looked asleep his lips seemed odd pressed together I want to see his teeth .... I reached tentatively out to touch his skin and while I had heard the dead were cold to touch he was icy like just out of the fridge, the need to warm him was overwhelming. I slowly started to stroke his head he had always loved it when I did this (sharing this is harder that I thought it would be) I cried, I talked, I kissed, I tried to smell him, tried to breathe him deep into my lungs, I pleaded, sobbed, hugged and my hour slipped away like seconds and I had to leave. The awesome Big C whispered to me that I should let G know that I forgave him. Forgive what I asked nothing to forgive but I said the words and in hindsight I am glad G would have needed those words he never wanted to ever cause me a heartbeat of pain...........and I walked away from the man I love.
(so sorry thought I could do all of this in one sitting but I can't . I will be back )
15/6/11 7.06pm
I'm back....
You know at the time I found spending time with G at the morgue kinf of comforting not what I expected but was so anyhow.
The evening of day 3 the Amazing A flew in from the territory to be with me, this is what I needed more than anything I could have. When she hugged me it was the first time I had breathed in three days. This is the woman I do life with she is my mate, my secret vault, she know who I am and loves me anyway...she is my blessing. G would be please she was here.
Day 4 Buying a dress for the funeral .... I love love shopping but today all I needed was a black dress with no care for how it looked I just needed a black dress that fitted me.... G hated it when I wore black he loved colour he love it when I wore red or purple but for this it was black. why I didn't choose something for him I have no idea...I suppose social acceptability.
The evening of Day 4 G's parents arrive from Queensland and we were to meet the Minister (Bob) as I walked in to the lobby of the hotel , there sitting with his parents was his sister. The sister he had not spoken to for over 5 years the sister he had no interest in reconnecting with, the sister whose last conversation with her brother was her berating him for a kindness he had shown to her children. I didn't know she would be there. Not sure how I felt upon seeing her but her she was. As we spoke to Bob about the funeral service his sister weighed in with her opinion of what G would have wanted, I could not believe she was so incredibly wrong about her brother how could she possibly have no idea of who he was and what he believed. This saddened me so that she had missed out on knowing this beautiful man she only knew of his dramas in life it also made me incredibly grateful that G had chosen to share his life with me. The details were worked out. words, speakers and music selected. Was this really happening was I really doing this ?
The sister drove me home after dinner looking for solace in her sadness, I hope said the right words the ones I am sure G wanted me to say. I left her with the knowledge that G was never one to bear grudges he only ever forgave, it was what G did is forgive.
Day 5 The funeral home...OMG the Amazing A drove us to this place it was all blurry details and along with his parents we worked them out the chapel, the papers for the death certificate, the list of organizations to notify..the newspaper notification, the order of service booklet the flowers for the day wither roses from me and yellow from his mother... and then it was time to choose the casket I had forgotten about this, how I don 't know but I had.Somehow I found my self standing in a showroom, listening as the features of each coffin and casket was being spewed at me. As parent suggest a rosewood casket and looked for my approval. My concerns were at the thickness of the mattress and how small the pillow was. I asked that they remove the plastic lining as he was being cremated and I did not want it melt on him as the director explain that due to health regulation they could not do this,,,,I lost it ran from the room gasping to breathe I cant do this I can not choose a box to lay my lover in not possible ...God please make this stop please correct my world please please please. The Amazing A held me close till the gasping and sobbing subsided totally exhausted I just nodded at all the other decisions to be made. No one should ever have to do this no one.
Dinner tonight with friends in Manly our old stomping ground. Don't know what I ate or where we went or who was there aside from my 3 angle girls who held me up, fed me, loved me and made me walk up the steepest hill on the northern beaches. These women had been a part of the fabric of my life both with and before G we have celebrated Christmastime, birthdays, anniversaries success's we had wept together, laughed and giggled, shouted and stamped these were my allies. I love each and everyone of the. And here they were for me grieving too and loving me. So home, with friends in tow to my Jaxie who upon being so excited to have a house full of visitor manage to turn on the stove and almost burn the kitchen down.
Day 6 THE FUNERAL
26/6/11 8.47pm
The morning dawns and I can not believe I have to do this today as the rest of the house lay sleeping I consider running away as far away as I can, as this will somehow not make this day happen. I talk to G in my thought ask for help from somewhere to just be able to stay upright.
We dress in silence, getting ready with the girls as we have done a hundred times before. Though today there is no animated chatter no laughter, no joy in being together like this. For once we are all ready early (this has never happen before) and then we sit, they are looking at me as though I am going to implode I check so many times that I have everything...but of course I don't there is no G to wait for as he primps, preens and changes her shirt four time. Feeling adrift I stare at the TV ,something anything to occupy me hoping they will stop looking at me and exchanging those concerned glances. Then from video hits come AC/DC...Highway to Hell.....what else. G would think this is soooo funny, he was alway an anxious and inappropriate comic in times of extreme stress, OMG he would have love the irony of this song right now. And as we look at each other I realize I am with exactly the right people cause they get this too with no words they just get it.
We go to pick up the gibberers I ordered from the florist as standing around all three in black head to toe making the poor girl in florist crazy, I am sent outside for a cigarette away from the poor flower girl trying to do her job. Amazing A is in a fluster and I don't know what about her tears and hugs confuse me what can be wrong? Could I really have been so blinded by my grief that I could no see anyone else's pain, the answer is apparently yes. As I write this I am beginning to see that I am consumed by this with no consideration for others. So I learn grief is selfish ...now there a post topic.
We drive to the chapel , seeing family and friend I move into social mode ...Hi ..yes I am good and you,,,how are the kids....oh my god how are the kids....yes it's been too long....It is so sad...WHAT THE!!!! why do we do that? Then I see G brother from queensland he hug's me and his size reminds me of G the back of his skull fits into my hand exactly the same way G's does, and I feel the stabbing pain in my chest my throat closing up again like I have swallowed glass. Can I really do this?
I am told that I need to go into the chapel before the service, do I have to ...yes I am told. I walk through the door but nothing prepares me for this sight, I try to back out but Amazing A's arms are around me supporting me guiding me forward. That sight his casket before me laid out with the flowers we chose...it looks too small for my big strong G, he must be squashed inside they assure me he isn't but I so desperately want to open it and check.
I sit before him and all I want is to crawl into that casket to be with him, is that morbid is it wrong do normal people this thoughts like that? I don't leave again I just sit in front of him waiting, faces pass in front of me all with that look the service starts and words are said there are people moving around none of it registers I just stare at that rosewood casket know he is so close. My mind is screaming GET UP , GET UP BABY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WAKE UP . This is not real it can't be not real not real not real not real not real not real.
When his photo montage starts I come back into my body for a bit as I am mermerised by his images, his smiles, his eyes, the colour of his skin, his tattoos, his favorite shirts our holidays, christmas's , bithdays's so many memories of him. I feel my bodt relax into the horrid pew I want this to last forever but it wont and doesn't, the music ceases more words and then they start to take him away. I think about how I could grab the casket and run away , an image of me running up Windsor road with G's in tow flashes though my mind. They place him in the herse, I think abiut getting in the car with them would they let me? I follow as far as I can before someone blocks me from going any futhur they try and hug me but I pull away this is NOT OK.
There are faces, kind words, sweet stories of G, there is baclava the love it, there are cigarette and futrile attempts to escape from people. There are invite and expectations the will never be met. There are promises made that will never be kept. There is the need to comfort one another that will too wane with time. And the entire time I am begging pleading in my mind for this to be a dreadful nightmare that I will wake up from and talk to G about please let this be so. Maybe I am in some coma like an episode from Grey's and I will wake up with fanciful tales to tell. All in all it is a blur like the week that has gone before.
Then we are home I feel nothing numb and sleepy, just numb and sleepy I crawl into bed for a nana nap thinking please let me never wake again.
So this has been that week .... lots of things to do , tasks gave me a purpose but now where do I go from here. They all go home and I am left with me and my thoughts of G......
So 25 days ago I received a visit from the local constabulary to tell me that the man I have loved for almost a decade had in her words "passed away" . So where does that leave me ? I have no idea, there is this word that is supposed to descibe where my life resides today GRIEF.Well what the hell is that no one can explain it to me adequetly. The words I read about grief have no equality to what I am experiencing.
The reality is that no one gets it no one, there is sympathy in bucket loads, food (what is that need to feed me about), allowences for my behaviour and those horrid looks I get off people at their discomfort to my pain.
As I try to negociate this place in my life I am going to try and write as honesty and anonymously as possible to find and outlet maybe ....I am not sure but this is my life today I just dont know
The reality is that no one gets it no one, there is sympathy in bucket loads, food (what is that need to feed me about), allowences for my behaviour and those horrid looks I get off people at their discomfort to my pain.
As I try to negociate this place in my life I am going to try and write as honesty and anonymously as possible to find and outlet maybe ....I am not sure but this is my life today I just dont know
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