Category Archives: grief

depths called high

There is tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, Each rolls on, dark, unrepentant. Dry days heap one on one in dusting heaps since you plunged forth, Quiet in your falling, Silent off slipping, But inwardly, awkwardly utterly missed. You were not … Continue reading

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unhappy endings…

Heya Bab, It is rolling up to two months since I got home and there is still much I can’t quite say. There are things I want to write but so far I can’t even speak them without a round … Continue reading

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what I called to say..

Heya bab, Tonight I headed out of the house in a flurry of coats, hats and scarves as mid March snow drifted down chilly beautiful and utterly indifferent. I was just popping off round to a friend’s for a cuppa, … Continue reading

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digging up the dead…

I’m sorry. The dead do not speak for us to hear them. All unanswered questions must be jam-jarred for a rainy day, The arguments sit pickled, part done when the chills come on. The love yous linger but they are … Continue reading

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being loved..

Heya Bab, This was our second winter without you but of course, as ever, you were very much here. We go into the hills to remember you, but the act feels pleasantly unimportant. We return there again and again so … Continue reading

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grief 101: for a friend…

Sometimes tears still take me by surprise, but I look back at the full ferocity of my grief as a far away country. Now I can laugh at the time when I lied and said my ten-day-dead dad was fine … Continue reading

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coming home…

Hiya Bab, It’s been a long time eh? Days, weeks, months have folded back and peeled away since you went away. Seasons bloomed, blossomed then dried on the branch and fallen off forgotten. It has now been fifteen months since … Continue reading

Posted in grief, life, loss, love, missing dad, reflections | Tagged | 12 Comments

the darkness in the heart…

There is a darkness in the heart of all good things, The black spot that grows great if you stare too long into the sun. In love there is brokenness like no other joy. In each birthing of hope there … Continue reading

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the first hundred years without my father..

Heya Bab, It has been a while since I have written. I am living life like a multi coloured montage of adventure and it keeps my eyes busy, my fingers tip tapping. The life of leisure still seems to speed. … Continue reading

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its alright…

Heya Bab, I know it has been a while since I’ve written, but you are often in my thoughts. You stop by with the mail in my inbox that spam-says its from you, in the silly line from a movie … Continue reading

Posted in death, grief, life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments