Still Here

So Christmas 2023 is over, thank goodness. Yet I am still here.

This is the second Christmas on my own since my gorgeous wife Christine died, exactly two years ago come the 6th of January. I have no recollection of that first Christmas on my own. In fact, I have hardly any recollection of the passing of the first year. I put this down to shock and the attendant numbness. As the second year progressed, shock and numbness receded to be replaced by a growing realisation of the horror of what had happened. Profound sadness and aloneness bloomed. I have never felt so desolate. In my ignorance I would not have believed it even possible to feel so unutterably bereft. No forewarning, no prose, no poetry could come close to the actuality of the lived experience. A living nightmare. Just dumb words.

I have been dreading this second Christmas. Memories of our last Christmas together kept coming to the fore. Christine was desperately ill at this point. It was utterly heartbreakingly awful. Each time they arose, I tried to bring to mind past Christmases when we were together and all was lovely. This has allowed me to get through the day but it has been very very tough. Yet I am still here.

For myself, and to everyone else in this excellent community who find Christmas a particularly awful and challenging time just pause for a moment and observe: We are still here.

However inconceivably awful the day has been; maybe you have endured new depths of sadness, loss and aloneness that you did not think possible. We have got through it: Maybe weeping, maybe screaming, maybe with family or friends, maybe alone, perhaps going for a walk, or watching TV or whatever. We have got through it. We are still here.

Does this not demonstrate that actually at our core there is an astounding strength? A strength that we never dreamt we had? Does this not suggest that even the tinniest bit of this strength can be used to start to crawl, ever so slowly, in the direction of a more tolerable, dare I say, a happier life that accommodates our loss? I fervently hope so.

I am still here. But this time next year it is my hope and wish to be in an ever so slightly better “here”.

To everyone in this community, and especially those who find Christmas singularly horrendous I say: Well done! We have endured it. What undeniable strength we have! Well done!

Simon x

12 Likes

We made it! it has been so incredibly surreal, sad, desperately lonely but somewhere in the mix there is strength and hope. A glimmer of light for 2024. That is their gift to us, it wasn’t our time to depart but it was theirs and we have to respect the passage of death, it comes to all of us but we still live on and we need to make that count somehow or it will all be for nothing. Our loved one’s are at peace, free of pain and suffering but we have no choice to continue until it’s our turn. My hope for all of us is to find our purpose and in doing so honour their memories and to also be so very proud of us and to embrace the people we have become through the trials of grief

6 Likes

Believe in all you have said, it’s what is going to get you through. Say it again and again, keep moving forward. Believe in them, believe in yourself. Merry Christmas xxx

1 Like

Thank you JerryH, Sarlyn, Walan. Beautiful thoughts and encouragement.

Without purpose, living is not worthwhile. We both had one purpose together, two hearts in one. Now one half grew wings, flying around so much that I can feel my heart palpitates in my ears.

This is the second year now going onto third year soon, and none of us are guaranteed tomorrow, such is the truth, Mine has been torturous, numbing, disconnecting… But God has been there, why… I am yet to find out… the new purpose.

So I wish everyone to be blessed with a new purpose, and meaning, so we may live graciously, and joyously,

3 Likes

Thank you all for your kind words. It’s only been 9 weeks for me and this first Christmas was a bit of a disaster. I made it through though!
Here’s hoping next year is a little less painful.

7 Likes