Today is four years and six months since my husband died which allows me to reflect on how I have managed to get through all this time without him. Below is a poem I wrote on the two-year anniversary:-
2nd of May 2020
Two years ago
I had to let you go
I still don’t know
what direction I am going
Tough decisions to make
without you showing
Some memories will torment
till my days are spent
While I ponder over things
that we could have prevent
My body feels
so heavy today
My head in such
a disarray
Like a lead weight
I cannot lift myself
Today I want you
nobody else
Wish I could talk to you
one more time
Without you
it’s been a hilly climb
Would love to tell you
all the things I’ve been doing
And all the life lessons
I’ve been accruing
I miss all your chat
your ideas and advice
So much love now gone
grief is the price
Everywhere I turn
there is a memory of you
But this new life
I must pursue
Not a day goes by
when I don’t feel you around
But ways to love again
I have found
On this day
the 2nd of May
Is a date I will always
think of in dismay
Reflecting I can say that was certainly one of my low days. I felt terrible; lockdown not helping, not being able to see anyone, no usual distractions. But I am glad to express that I don’t feel like that today. Apart from some hormonal headaches, I feel positive and motivated to get things done. To anyone that is in the early stages of grief, there is hope. Grief changes all the time, you will not always feel like this.
Initially, I counted the weeks; one week since he died, then two weeks, then three, then four and so on… I can’t remember when I started with the months and the 2nd of each month became significant.
Life has been so busy the past year or so, the 2nd of each month does not trigger me quite so much as it used to. The yearly anniversaries are tough but then random days are too. The further away the date of my husband’s death becomes, the more I want to grip on to time, as it slips like sand through my fingers. Memories become blurry and skewed. I struggle to remember things that I used to remember clearly. Occasionally, I feel as though Steven is farther away from me, than he used to be.
There is so much going on in my ‘new life’ now, that some memories are dreamlike. I have to think harder; did I do that with Steven, or did I watch that film with Steven? I’m unsettled when I realise that the film I’m thinking of us watching together, wasn’t released till after his death.
This month will be my 43rd birthday, another one without him. Preparing to face another Christmas without him. He only made it to 40, I was 38 at the time. Now I have lived longer than he did. A mixture of emotions still float around; the guilt when I feel happy, the sadness of what he is missing out on, the regret of things we didn’t get around to doing, and blessed that I am still here.
You write so beautifully and honestly. Grief is such rocky road and hits when you least expect it. You were so young to lose your husband. I was much older, but I relate to everything you say and express. Time is such a strange one, I like you wanted to stop the sand slipping through my fingers, but it also does dull the very, very hard, cold desolate emotions of the early days.
My thoughts are with you Laura and I hope that going forward becomes less painful for you. Keep strong. ❤️