the bad days..

The hard days are the ones when I don’t want to have to wake up to that remembering of loss. When some how my dad manages to log into skype, or facebook…. or its just the phone rings and I assume it must be him and fume at some poor window salesman for being on the other end of the line.

When for once I am feeling good and smiling, and then I bump into someone in the street who asks after him and I have to tell them that he is dead, without really believing the words myself, and somehow I always feel like I have to end the conversation with them feeling ok…. even though I feel terrible.

There are the days when I am embarrassed that my grief embarrasses other people. When my voice does a hamster squeak half way through a sentence or I have to claim rain to explain tears. When I find myself wanting to smack someone for telling me I need to be strong or that they will pray for God to have mercy on my dad’s soul. When I want to kill over a clichĂ©. When people compare my loss to a bad day in work, something they saw on the tv or the death of a goldfish. When I realise I’m being Little Ms Angry with people who have nothing but kind intentions and clumsy words..

There are days when I feel emotion stir in me like a murky sea beast swimming fathoms down, that churns and unsettles me though I cannot see or tame or name it. When the sense of a raw ferocity just beneath my stillness makes me want to stay numb.

But there are also days when I realise there is something ugly beautiful in loss. When I feel so lucky to have had something so precious that I can miss it so keenly. There are days when I can laugh at myself even whilst I’m crying.

There are days when I am thankful for the compassion that swells through my grieving, for the sense of wonder that comes with the reminder or mortality. When I’m touched by the kindness of those I don’t expect to be kind. When I want to shout out love into the wind and then chuckle at my own foolishness.

Each day I try to remind myself who I want to be and to chose to want to be that person tomorrow, even if I don’t have the strength to do more than keep breathing today…

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8 Responses to the bad days..

  1. I remember going to phone my mum about 9 months after her death. It was weird. I found a quiet space and spoke to her anyway! Your Dad sounds and amazing man. May his memory live on through you. Good luck.

  2. theogw says:

    My Mother who was well read would have enjoyed reading this Blog it brings me a great sweetness to think of this.

  3. Sami says:

    Oh boy, the ‘be strong’ comment. Of course! I know it’s normal for people to say that, but seriously, be strong? How could anyone expect us to be strong in moments like this?! I laugh now when I read or hear that. I have a post of the top worst things to say to a grieving person that I have yet to post– I’ll have to share it!

  4. Its a great idea for a post Sami… I have genuinely toyed with getting a card of ‘please don’t says’ made up and laminated on account of all the times I’m plunged down but some well meant but stupid comment..

  5. hope2391 says:

    I love this post. It’s comforting to see someone else has felt the way I do

  6. Pingback: grief 101: for a friend… | finding life in a death

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