Tuesday, 1 December 2009

A new level

A couple of months ago I took what I thought was going to be a short blogging break.

There didn't seem to be a lot of point in announcing it as it was only supposed to be for a couple of weeks.
At the time I was rehearsing for a play - an 'entertainment' really - and assumed that I would get straight back to blogging when the rehearsals were over.

But something happened in the intervening period.
I don't know whether it was the intensity of the rehearsal process, or the fact that it allows you to make a fool of yourself in a safe environment, or just because it is darned good fun, but it was like a huge injection of life-giving vitamins.
I really rediscovered my 'normal'. The fun me, the person who gets involved because it is good to be out there with people.
I didn't realise how much I had missed her until I became reacquainted.

And my appreciation of R's death seems to have changed as well.
It seems weird to be saying after 15 months that I finally realise he is dead, but that is almost how it feels. I now know it in my heart as well as my head. It is bloody hard to type those words, but I know they are true.
This knowledge, this belief has opened up a door to another level. As in those old-fashioned platform games like Prince of Persia. A monumental leap to another rooftop has allowed me to escape some of the demons that have been dogging my tracks, leaving me lighter and able to run forward faster.
I don't know whether this is acceptance, or something close to it, but it does give a feeling of peace.

I still sigh and I still cry. I still have periods of total inertia when I can't get up from the sofa. I still talk to R in my head all day long. But I feel different.
I feel like me again. Not R's widow. Me.
My get up and go has come back from wherever it went. I'm starting to make plans again. I'm starting to think about what I want to do, rather than just getting through the days.

All this made me reluctant to come back to the blog. It felt as though it would break the spell somehow.
But a chance visit to the e-mail account that I use for my forays into the blogging world found an e-mail. A message from 2 months ago from someone who had visited this blog and had taken the time to write me a kind, generous and interesting reply. I felt a little shame-faced that this had gone unanswered for so long, and so dropped in here - only to find some more messages wondering where I was.

I am so sorry to have caused people to worry, however momentarily, so an update seemed in order. Now I have started to write again, I am remembering how good it made me feel to sort out issues in my head and transfer them to the screen. And my mind is full of things I want to say once more.
So I guess it looks as though I am back. For the next while at least.


  1. Glad you're back, J, and I'm so happy that you've reached the next level. It sounds like you have real peace, and I look forward to finding that reality one day. In the meantime, thanks for showing us what is possible and for continuing to inspire.


  2. i am so glad your break gave you such an uplifting view of life, an introduction to you. just knowing you are alright is enough. write if you wish. cease if it sets you back. just don't disappear without a goodbye. we care about you and want only the best.

  3. YAY, you're back ... I have missed you!

    I can't tell you how much hope you have given me just by reading your last post ... you know, it's as important to have a break from your "grief work" as it is to work on it (my counsellor told me) and what you wrote reminded me that after 9 months, I needed to take a break from the bereavement boards - it was sapping me too much.

    I'm glad you've met you again, after all it was that you that R fell in love with. You sound like a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon.

    Of course you still cry, but it's great that you've moved up a level as it were! I am looking forward to catching you up sometime next year.

    Lots love

  4. It is wonderful to hear from you and know that in your absence you have reached another level, so to speak, on your journey. I look forward to hearing of your continued growth and insights. I hope your feelings of being lighter and able to run faster don't let up. I also hope you know that positng where you are right now has such positive impact on others no matter where we are on the widowhood road.

  5. I am jumping with joy for you, friend! Would love to hear more from you... this journey is about so much more than grief and loss.

    Bless you for updating us, kisses to you and Moose!



  6. Thank you everyone for your lovely words. It feels right to be back now. And I promise I won't disappear again without saying!

    J xxxx

  7. Anonymous19:42

    Not long before you "disappeared", I posted a comment telling you that although life would never be "the same", it would be good again for you (based solely on my experience of becoming a widow 46 years ago, and living through the intervening years). Then you stopped posting, and like the others, I was concerned about you.

    Now you're back, and beginning to feel better in the here and now. I'm so happy for you.

  8. Anon: Yes, I remember your message and I am starting to believe you are right. It is all about being in the here and now. Even after such a short time, I have found out new things about myself that I like, things that might have stayed hidden forever had R not died. Of course I would have him back in a heartbeat, but life would not be exactly the same as it was before if he were able to come back - I have moved on and grown in so many ways.
    It's a slightly odd feeling being half-way between my old life and whatever new life is ahead of me.

  9. Great to see you back. And although it changes, it's no less real, all the same.