It never goes away. You may be standing in the queue at the supermarket, sat in the car park, walking down the street, lying in the bath…it never goes away. You never know when it will creep up on you. A song, a smell, a day, the way you cough; it’s always there. Lingering. I am three years into this never ending road. The road that will never ever be complete again. The road ultimately ends when I do. Grief is shitty.
The road has less bumps in it than it did three years ago, but when you hit that speed hump – it hurts. Really really hurts. You see, losing my Mother three years ago was quite honestly the most traumatic, horrific, heart wrenching, agonising thing I as a person have ever had to deal with – all rolled into one giant shaped grief ball. I’ve managed to smooth out that ball now. I don’t dissolves into a sobbing mess every day; wonder how I will manage to paint a smile on my face again and have to learn to live without her. I am still learning how to deal with this, but I feel I’m getting better. It’s when big things happen that it crushes me. The haunting realisation that I realty am doing this alone – for the rest of time. There’s not going to be a point where she pops back and makes it all OK. Death is final. So cruelly final. I can’t text her to see if she remembers what we had for our wedding breakfast dessert that no one else can remember; she would remember! She won’t stand next to me on the playground in a few weeks as the girls start big school. There’ll be no comforting coffee after as we mull over the cycle of parenting that had finally gone full circle, yet was cut short.
I miss her, but what I miss most is the love she showered my babies with. The proudest Granny. That is what hurts most, the injustice. 59 was no age to die. The pain of losing someone never goes away. You learn to deal with it and life forms a sense of normality again. A new normality that no one chose, but has to accept. You feel crushed that they can’t share the present, but look back on the past with a smile – not through a tsunami of tears. It creeps up on you when you least expect it and I’m sure it always will. Grief – it really doesn’t ever go away.