Reflections
“Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning”
Psalm 30 verse 5
Does grief go away? It really depends on what we mean by that question. Seven years on after Tom’s death, I feel that it is time to reflect and determine where I am on my journey away from grief. I am happy and contented, and have come to terms with his death. I think of him often, without pain, but I do miss him all the time. However, there are also still odd moments when I feel the grief overwhelming me. I was very recently watching the BBC proms, a programme Tom seldom missed, and, at first, I nearly turned the TV off because the grief I felt was so acute. However, as I continued to watch and listen to the beautiful music, the pain passed and I began to feel comforted. In my imagination, Tom was listening with me and enjoying the music with me.
I feel that I have made a life for myself without Tom. I have engaged in interests of my own and have got involved in different groups. This has kept me busy and content. However, I am aware that I have to some extent pushed aside the interests Tom and I shared. What would we have done together, had he still been alive?
- Travelled more
- Gone on long walks
- Attended ballet and opera performances
- Watched detective dramas
- Enjoyed companionship and physical intimacy
- Shared the gardening and house maintenance
The latter were not strong points for either of us, but together we could manage things.
“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up.”
Ecclesiastes 4 verses 9 and 10
What have I found to fill the gap in my life? I have already mentioned most of these things in previous posts, but, on reflection, I realise afresh how blessed I am to have such a full and satisfying life.
Travel to places that Tom and I never visited together:
Callanish on Lewis 
Florida 
Harris 
Iceland 
Portugal 
Quiraing on Skye
Art club with classes and workshops:
Multi media collage 
Workshop in the Lake District
A new puppy requiring regular walks:
Scottish Country Dancing and serving on the committee:
Joining the Sacristy team at church:
Stained glass classes:
Jane Austen Society and serving on the committee of the local branch:
Literature classes:
My experience the other night while watching the Proms, has made me think that now is the time to start doing some of the things that I have pushed out of my life. Maybe I can enjoy opera and ballet without Tom. Maybe I can once again watch a detective drama on TV. I had no option but to attend symphony concerts because I had bought season tickets before Tom died. Fortunately I found a kind friend to accompany me. It was hard at first, but I soon found that I could enjoy the concert without wanting to cry. Daughter has been fantastic in taking me on holidays and friends have also joined me on trips. Son now shares the gardening and house maintenance with me.
Of course, I miss the intimacy we shared, but I feel in some strange way, that I haven’t lost it. I know Tom so well that I can predict what he would think or say in any situation.
One of things that I have enjoyed about writing this blog is the input that I have received from friends. It is so good to talk openly about grief. Our society tends to steer away from the topic, not knowing how to handle it. And yet, it helps to share ideas and experiences, especially since we all encounter bereavement.
A friend of mine recently forwarded the daily meditations that she receives by email from Richard Rohr of the Centre for Action and Contemplation. For the first week in August, Richard Rohr tackled the question of grief. On 4 August, in his reflection “Good Grief”, he says:
“Death cannot be dealt with through quick answers, religious platitudes, or a stiff upper lip. Grief is not a process that can be rushed but must be allowed to happen over time and in its own time.”
For me it is a journey that will continue, probably for the rest of my life. Each day is a new learning opportunity. For anyone wishing to include more contemplation into their life, the link to the website, which explains who Richard Rohr is and what the centre does, is https://cac.org/about/what-we-do/.
Lovely photo of both of you in your Highland retreat. I can feel your sadness and your happiness, the whole human range of emotions which is as it should be. You quote RR but please also read Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. All love to you on your (at times very) painful journey.
xxx
Thank you, Mary. I remain grateful for you company at the concerts!
Thank you Marlene… I have walked a similar path and you put it into words most beautifully. One does indeed begin to remember without the pain and yet, at the oddest moments, grief is still triggered by sounds, sights or even smells… but what a great gift it is to learn to be content.
Thank you for your comment, Shirley. Talking about our shared experiences does help in the recovery process. Too often, we bury what we are feeling.
Thank you Marlene, and Shirley too. You are both a little further along the journey than I am but I draw so much inspiration and encouragement from the two of you.
Thank you, Janet. It is good to be able to share with you and to see how your faith is helping you to cope. You are doing so well.
Marlene, I found your latest blog so reassuring and encouraging. It is only just on 14 months now since I lost my husband, but can identify with so much of what you said, even though it has been longer for you. It gives me hope that the ups and downs and mixed emotions are ‘normal’.
Bless you
Joan
Dear Joan
Thank you so much for your comment. It is helpful to to discover that we all experience similar highs and lows, even though we each have our own unique journey to make. I find much encouragement from talking to friends and learning from what they have been through. We are all different, but we can support one another.
God bless you as you continue on your journey,
Marlene