Grief Notes by Josephine Patrick
The day has barely started. I have sugar in my tea again and the Sarah Raven gardening podcast on. I am listening to this to try and soothe myself- she’s talking about tomatoes and Sweet Peas; she is imparting her wisdom on the lad Arthur Parkinson, she is trying to convince him that she probably […]
Continue ReadingHow do I live with meaning? Initially I did not let everything fall apart because I couldn’t. The impact of his death wasn’t just about me- in the hours that followed my discovery I had a real ‘ ‘Stop all the clocks’ moment- I tactlessly sent messages letting people know; I was as subtle as a town […]
Continue ReadingI ain’t nothing but tired. Growing up in the nineties the only thing I knew about the song Dancing in the Dark is that Courtney Cox appeared in the music video- it was just a song with someone from Friends in it. That was it. Not my thing, next please thank you. It took until last year for it […]
Continue ReadingThe silence is an echo, is an echo. I haven’t been well. I was a mess on Monday with a face full of tears and hay fever. My limbs felt heavy and I napped as soon as I returned from work until a later dinner and a quiz with friends. I made it through and […]
Continue ReadingSometimes there is nothing left. I am filling time again. Something on the telly. Work to do. More chores. Superfluous stuff. I have been trying to make something out of life. I am holding it all together for LP; she is my reason and everyone knows that- an anchor and a raft. I would just […]
Continue ReadingI have felt like I have been wearing a skin of nerves; so I haven’t written in a while. Everything was just too raw and it didn’t make sense. Thinking hurt too much and so I avoided it, still feeling it all like I was stuck in a state of being I couldn’t see a […]
Continue ReadingI am happy in the garden. What may look like a simple sentence from a children’s early reader is as complex as can be. Happy is difficult. Happy is complicated. Happy sits hand in hand with guilt and longing and stares accusingly at its source. The widow can be happy; there’s another one for you. […]
Continue ReadingThere is no such thing as a bereavement holiday. In a groggy morning state, that seems to be the way of things these days, I turned to Lois and thought “where’s your dad?” fortunately catching the words before I could form them. I had a sugar in my tea, the grief anvil teetering dangerously on […]
Continue ReadingIt’s Groundhog Day and the toothy little beast has predicted whether spring will keep us waiting or not. Every year, without fail Seb and I would watch this film on this day and share the same jokes that never got old. I’d comment on the quilt in Mr. Connors’ hotel room and we would both […]
Continue ReadingSomething that crosses my mind; when I’m feeling really bereft; is that Seb didn’t love me enough to stick around. I wasn’t worth living for. This is a pit feeling, a real low. The rational part of me knows that this isn’t the case, that he didn’t choose to exit this way. Nevertheless I am […]
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