Time doesn’t seem to exist in this new world. If it does, it doesn’t include days. There are no days, only dusk and dawn and the darkness linking them. Seconds, hours, weeks, months. These categories have lost meaning. Life is measured by experiences now. Good experiences. Bad experiences. Firsts. Repeated. Unexpected. Brief. Drawn out. Pleasurable. …
There are times, moments where grief and happiness seem to integrate. Often one gives way to the other, even feeds the other, but there have been moments where they’ve co-operated. My first experience of this was waking up on the second morning after Susie died. I was lying in bed, despairing at its sudden emptiness. …
If I imagine you speaking, imagine you loving me through this, you would tell me… …you would tell me “Husband…you are my happy place”, and you’d tell me you love me so very much. You’d tell me that it was such a gift to be able to call me your husband. You’d tell me how …
Hello, my love, how are you?How did you sleep last night?I’d love to hear you sing to methe story of your flight. Well I sense I slept quite deeplyon a bed of broken dreamsBut soundly very soundly for I’m rested now it seems. I dreamt that I was falling.At first I was afraid.But then I …
I remember wool. In fact, as colder days approach, I am reminded of wool more and more. Soon enough I’ll be reaching for the jumper she knitted me a couple of years ago, and the beanie she crocheted for me a month before she died. Her love will continue to warm me, even in her …
Black holes are born from bright stars. When a star collapses, the singularity formed creates such a gravity that not even light can escape its pull. What sort of force would it take to overcome the gravity of my star collapsing? I am yet to experience that morning when I wake up without Suse’s absence …
I don’t want to forget anything. Even though memories burn, I don’t want to forget a thing. Not even the hard times or the regrettable times. In fact, especially not those times. Because these were the times that tested our relationship and proved its character. They were the times when we’d lean into and carry …
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 …
My heart is an oil rig, pumping black blood in turbulent seas. As ice-cold waves pound its perimeter, its structural integrity is tested with a monotonous regularity. Before each fresh onslaught, there is a lull, a quiet. But that’s just the effect of the next wave gorging itself on the rig’s immediate surrounds. The waters …
As I look back on the last couple of weeks of writing, the question of why I write – why I want to write – presses in on me. Reflecting on this, I think there are a number of reasons. First, I write to remind myself of the love we shared. It both explains and …