I haven't been blogging very much thats for sure. The date on my last post tells that story. I cant even say that I have a heap of "almost posts " with draft stamped on them in my list of posts. I simply have not been writing. I have been reading though, I read blogs most days and I have been reading novels, and I have been reading about Aspergers Syndrome too, this is because a pediatrician told me that my 3rd son has AS, but I think he is wrong, we are currently having that investigated further.
Reading blogs helps me. I know that everyone has a story and I am not going to find someone else with the same story as me but I read blogs of people who are writing the chapters that come after grief. That is what helps me, knowing that there are going to be more chapters.
I have been thinking about the similarities between Grief and Love.
Love comes when you least expect it and when you are not looking for it. It explodes into your life, love day dreams consume your day and your thoughts, touching or coloring every part of your life and making it difficult to carry out more than routine tasks. I have experienced this "Falling in Love" kind of love. I have declared to myself that this is the one, declare that I will never take this perfect relationship for granted, my love will always be fresh for my wonderful amazing man who will always strive to please me and succeed. I have thankfully moved out of the falling stage.
Grief has a similarly devouring affect, it also arrives without warning, completely bowls me over and leaves me gasping for breath. It is so powerful, it illuminates this single relationship to the point that I am blind to the many other relationships in my life. I am driven to gather things that have a smell or a date or any memory attached, things that bring a moment in time back to my mind. I am very emotional, I write poetry, I draw, photograph, scrapbook, treasure jewelry, plant seeds, I file and store faithfully.
Its a lot like falling in love, except it feels so bloody crappy.
I used to have grief dripping off me, all over the place. I was an automatic walking grief machine, I had buttons all over me and it was very easy to push any of them (or all of them at once). I dispensed anger, pain and sadness when I was gasping for breath at the shopping centre because of a panic attack, or when I was bawling my eyes out because someone else got their baby, and when I was very angry and self righteous because someone else didn't take notice of the danger that threatened their child, and sadly when the stony unfriendly silence that I presented to someone with a happy attitude. I alienated a lot of people and lost a lot of relationships.
Grief is not the same for me anymore. In the beginning it was on the surface of my skin, dripping off onto everything I came into contact with. It's now almost 2 years since Thomas died and I have found that it is easier to tell my story, I am more comfortable, less shocked. I feel like grief has grown into me, its deeper now. I feel like it has reached under my skin and blended with my muscles. Like a slow growing creeper I imagine it moving toward my core where it can live, sheltered privately. I like the thought of it becoming part of who I am. I do not have get over it, move on, and heal, leave that experience behind me as I move forward without the baggage. Feeling sad sometimes will always be part of who I am, and writing that makes me feel a bit happy, less pressured.
I think that grief might follow the trend that Love follows. Love kind of grows comfortable. It's still love, but it becomes comfortable. It grows deeper and stronger. Deeper than the love I had at the "Falling In" stage but maybe not so gasping for breath. I have seen older lovers grow into each other. They become like a matched pair. They start looking like each other and talking like each other too. Its like they have blended a bit of the other person into themselves.
I imagine that one day people will not be able to see my grief anymore. They won't see it on my face, they will just see me. Over the years it will have altered and I will have accommodated it to the point that it is no longer recognised. It will become a treasured and guarded resource, a place where great strength lives. I am not in that place just yet (of course) and I often go back to the dripping stage. At the moment I am in the place where I can catch glimpses of the future and want to step into it.
That is where I am now. On the doorstep of Thomas' 2nd Angelversary.
I love you Thomas
Wish you were here
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