Somehow Carrying On

I don’t know how to do this any more. I can go some days, filling my life up with people, stuff. Plenty of it is pretty good. Hey hey, I think. Not “I’m over it”, just “I don’t have to feel it”. Even moments of feeling it and I think I’m so cool. Yeah, grieving. Feeling it when I feel it. Then I revert to avoidance. Now with busy times coming up, here is a small vacuum. Do I feel or forget?

I actually don’t get much choice. I take a step in this house and Jane is here, all around and I am thumping the air like a baby. Or I think of a place and realise that it is our place, a place that we went together and made our own. Like Spencerville Beach. Only a small walk together one day and yet I remember each step. Being close, together. Breathing in the dunes, the surf, the horizon.

Doing things with Elsie, with other people.

How can this be that you are dead, Jane. This doesn’t happen. It isn’t in the script. We spend the rest of our lives together. You don’t die like that, out of the blue. No-one does. This is some crazy nonsense.


3 thoughts on “Somehow Carrying On”

  1. Somehow carrying on being your friend too Dan. Sometimes just carrying on as if nothing changed. I don’t know how you grieve this – or more to the point I don’t know how I grieve this with you.

    I am pleased to be here with you – feeling sad, now, as you get through your blogging block as you called it tonight on the phone. And I get through my commenting block.

  2. Hello Dan – I’ve become an irregular visitor here. It feels important to me to be a witness to what you write. Your words take me back to how it was when my son died, many years ago. He was two. He was only ill for a few days. This, also, was not in the script. Oh I so well remember – in fact I don’t remember it, I feel it now – those questions filling me up. How can this be? How can this have happened?

    I will keep visiting, and keep feeling, in response to you.

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