Monday, 30 January 2012

Dark Clouds Roll In

I write, I blog, I heal, I hurt but still.....even now......I cry. 
At the most unexpected moments, the dark clouds roll in and that dark, sad feeling wells and overwhelms. 
Time stops. 
At that exact moment I miss them and it is too much. 
I miss them too much again, I miss them all, for everything that will never be and for never holding them and when I think of them I also cry in frustration at myself, with self-pity I flounder at my own ridiculous inadequacy at being able to do the most basic of female tasks.

But then the breeze stirs and the clouds clear, time starts to move again and so do I. Until next time.

Two birds loving each other
 Sydney, Australia November 2011
During those particular moments go back to being filled with that raw, coarse, despairing sort of pain, the same as just after the twins died.  But as last year progressed and before it got bad again I remind myself that I started not to mind those moments as they eased.  I am still waiting for them to settle down this time, it is taking longer.  I think a healing scar that gets reopened takes longer to heal so I am being ever so patient. 

 However this evening when I was discussing these spontaneous moments of crying on a FB group I remembered something that I almost forgot I used to look for during that manageable stage last year.  That when when those moments become less raw, less all consuming bitter, heart wrenching pain and frustration, I know I won't want them to go away completely.  They are like magic.  It is at those moments I think my boys are with me and it is them stopping time and pushing through, reaching out and touching me from wherever they are now.  As soon as it stops hurting so much and I can focus on the moment I will feel them again and it is then that the sorrow turns to comfort....


Beth said...

I read somewhere that grief is only possible because of love. So perhaps grief IS love. And it connects you to your boys. I wish I could give you the biggest hug. xxxx

Crystal said...

I read something like that also, Beth.

"Just for today when my heart feels like breaking,
I will stop and remember that grief is the price we pay for loving
and the only reason I hurt is because
I had the privilege of loving so much."

Here's the whole thing...

Just For Today For Bereaved Parents
By Vicki Tushingham

Just for today I will try to live through the next 24 hours
and not expect to get over my child's death,
but instead learn to live with it, just one day at a time.
Just for today I will remember my child's life, not just her death,
and bask in the comfort of all those treasured days
and moments we shared.
Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends
who didn't help or comfort me the way I needed them to.
They truly did not know how.
Just for today I will smile no matter how much I hurt on the inside,
for maybe if I smile a little,
my heart will soften and I will begin to heal.
Just for today I will reach out to comfort a relative or friend of my child,
for they are hurting too,
and perhaps we can help each other.
Just for today I will free myself from my self-inflicted burden of guilt,
for deep in my heart I know if there was anything in this world
I could of done to save my child from death,
I would of done it.
Just for today I will honor my child's memory
by doing something with another child
because I know that would make my own child proud.
Just for today I will offer my hand in friendship
to another bereaved parent
for I do know how they feel.
Just for today when my heart feels like breaking,
I will stop and remember that grief is the price we pay for loving
and the only reason I hurt is because
I had the privilege of loving so much
Just for today I will not compare myself with others.
I am fortunate to be who I am
and have had my child for as long as I did.
Just for today I will allow myself to be happy,
for I know that I am not deserting her by living on.
Just for today I will accept that I did not die when my child did,
my life did go on,
and I am the only one who can make that life worthwhile once more.

bjarnason family said...


I can not agree more. I was just telling my husband that the pain I feel is almost overwhelming. Its not always constantly overwhelming, its intensity comes and goes, but its always there. Then I have the thought that maybe someday it will go away but that thought scares me almost as much as the overwhelming part.

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