Saturday 7th July.
It was the weekend. But that neither occurred to me at the time or mattered. It felt like the world’s end.
I woke at 800am, after nearly 10 hours of sleep. I’m aware many people don’t enjoy that privilege in grief. It probably helped that I hadn’t slept for 40 hours prior to that. But I was thankful I did. I felt rested, but I was in no way refreshed or recharged. What the rest did do for me was clear away some of the fog which had been gathering over the 32 hours since Suse died.
But as the fog cleared, all I began to see were avenues of endless sadness. No matter which road I travelled down in my mind, every one was paved with the blood stained shards of our shattered family. Grief lined the streets. It was everywhere.
Grief was all through time. The past, which just two days earlier was full of warm memories and precious anecdotes, was now just a minefield for sorrow. The future, which just two days earlier shone so bright, was now a theatre of fear. Grief was all through time.
Grief was all through my body, but especially in my chest. Tight bands constricted around my sternum, and did not release their grip for nearly two months. It felt like my whole body was a reservoir for tears, and that crying would come as naturally as breathing. Many times it did. Many times I’d be surprised by a tear dropping without me even knowing it had formed.
Grief etched itself into the eyes and embossed itself onto the faces of our family and friends. With the fog receding I could see their pain so much more clearly. We reflected each other’s grief in the glances we afforded each other. Never have I seen or experienced such deep and widespread despair.
As the hours and days and weeks and months have trudged on, grief has washed everything in its dark stain. From the biggest things to the smallest minutiae, I’ve been shocked by how prevalent it is. How ever present it is. There has not been a waking moment in the last 8 1/2 months when Suse has not been front and center of my mind. I think about her more now than when she was alive.
Grief is everywhere. And it’s inescapable.
