A Memory

A couple of days ago I had a lovely message from a very dear friend. She said she was thinking about Tony and me. She’d been remembering a time she was in El Taco for Easter and the madness in the bar next door. She was worried that by recounting this memory she might upset me.  Not at all. Those memories are always in my head anyway, tears are always a moment away and hearing someone else’s memories can’t really make things any more difficult. She ended by saying she missed him too.  Yes, she made me cry, but it was a holiday, it was a weekend… both are impossible to get through without tears these days.  This Easter has been no easier.

It was, in fact, refreshing to hear someone say they were thinking about us both, and especially warming to hear her saying they missed him too. I can’t remember anyone else sharing that with me before (and I’m sorry if you have and I’ve forgotten). So dear friend if you are reading this I thank you, you’ll know who you are.

Tony is still a massive part of my life, and always will be, yet most (almost all) are afraid(?) to say his name. I can only imagine their reasoning which doesn’t help with my overactive imagination. Some ‘friends’ have broken off contact completely while others rarely get in touch any more.  I know my state of mind isn’t easy to handle/witness at times but I really thought some of those people once closest to me would be here should I need them. It seems not. The desolation and isolation are all too often overwhelming, and not hearing from people who profess to care simply makes things worse.

The following day I found and reposted an article on Facebook about grief and the griever. I agreed with a lot of the comments, although some were still wide of the mark for me. Grief is different for us all, and different each time we suffer a loss.  For anyone finding my grief difficult to handle take a look at the article on FB; it might help. And please know that no matter how difficult it is for you it is nowhere near how life destroyingly difficult it is for me.

Sadly I know I am probably preaching to the choir again as those I would like to read and absorb this never will. And if it all sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself you bet I fucking am. I do not apologise for that for I am hurting immensely.


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