A Living Grief

Grief doesn’t always involve the death of a person. We grieve for relationships built on the idea of someone, instead of the reality they present to us. We mourn friendships that have lost their way and the people who were once a safe space for us, but can no longer support us.  We can be impacted deeply by the loss of our beloved pets. Grief is raw and complex and painful, whatever its circumstance. For me, it is not just about physical loss, it’s the emotional connection that I mourn the most.

My dear Mum has been slowly slipping away for years now, dementia taking its hold on her and gradually stealing the essence of her. She has been here, but not present – around, but not always aware. She’s been on end of life care at her residential home since before Christmas and I know the end is not far away now. I see it approaching in the near distance like a slow moving train, already derailed and heading only into the sidings. It’s edging closer and closer towards me.

It’s been over five years since my Dad died and I still notice things that he would have liked for birthdays and Christmas, smiling at programmes he would surely have enjoyed and no doubt prompted some interesting late night discussions as he drank his whisky and encouraged me to have another glass of wine!

Our family home was sold a few years ago, but I can still see every room in my mind’s eye. I can still smell my Mum’s roast dinners and every time I eat Yorkshire puddings I’m reminded of the comforting power of a family unit, even if ours was just as dysfunctional as everyone else’s!

What is it that we crave from the things we have lost? I think it’s the feelings of safety and familiarity that we associate with the people and things that we love. I wonder if that’s all we really take with us, in the end. Even our memories can elude us in time, if disease takes hold.

They say that love is the bridge between this world and the next and although it’s sadly not enough to keep us living forever, I wonder if the feeling itself may be eternal and that, is a great comfort to me.

The Long Goodbye
by hjd_aitken
I come each week
and watch you sleep
You haven’t much to say
You already left, your light’s elsewhere
I sit with you anyway.
My heart is breaking
But I smile for you
and hope you see me, still
There’s so much I want to tell you
but I know now, I never will.
We look at photos new and old
I help you drink and hold your hand
Swallowing silent tears
for my once vibrant Mum
Slowly slipping from this land

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *