I’ve spent the last 2 days writing in a cathartic manner, trying to purge my feelings onto paper. I’m trying in a manner of sorts to actually discern what I am feeling. I am not going to share that outpouring here; in fact, I’m not even sure I should be sharing this here at all. I mostly stay in my little corner of the internet, sharing lovely and beautiful things that cross my path hoping that the occasional person might like what I do and have a read. Grief, it’s a difficult topic. “We” don’t talk about it much considering we all go through it at some point or other. And even though I’ve “experienced” grief before, I still don’t have the vocabulary on hand to utilise. I don’t have the unselfconscious ability to move like water, ebbing and flowing through the emotions I am feeling. I do have a somewhat bizarre notion of not being a “fuss” of putting others at ease before myself, not pushing it down but in some ways diminishing what I am feeling.
I am grieving and there is no sunny spin on that. It’s not picture perfect, it’s messy and unhinged. My grief will run its course, it will come in stages and I’ve been through this before. It’s just that she was my Mum and she was taken so quickly by cancer that it’s hard to process. There is nothing that can prepare you to lose a parent and now that they are both gone I’ve become unmoored. I am rollercoaster-ing through the what if’s, if only’s, the pleading, bargaining, guilt and anger. Acceptance seems a long way away but it too will come eventually.
The author Haruki Murakami writes with a poetic richness that I do not possess and I think his words on the storm are rational words of wisdom. Rationality that eludes me right now. He may not have been writing about grief, but the storm for me summarise exactly how the fog of grief feels.
I’ll be taking a break from hellopeagreen and I hope I’ll be back here again in 2016.
Image by Pippa at Fears and Kahn modified with quote from Haruki Murakami by Mary Middleton.