Progress at Last
When I joined DS late last year I was at a particularly low point. I was away on holiday and it hit me that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, I was walking on alone. Darryl felt very absent and I felt very alone. Given that I was approaching the third anniversary of his death this knocked the wind out of my sails. I thought I would never come good, never feel normal again.
I had a bad day just last week and cried and called his name yet again. I cannot say I have ever really felt his presence, yet my son tells me he senses that his father is here in this house that he never lived in. And I do feel that it is still the two of us. Given that we were married for thirty five years and together for forty this is not particularly surprising. Memories are etched into my heart, imprinted on my retina.
The good news is that a shift has taken place. Maybe it was because my mother's ill health took up some of my time. Perhaps it was just that the effort I had made to join in this community here began to bear fruit. It could be that I have finally accepted that it is okay to have bad days.
Whatever! My units of time have been filling up and I have been busier and engaging with the world again, not as Heather of Heather and Darryl, but as Heather, with people who never knew Darryl.
I am a writer and like to do pencil drawings. My pencil drawings help me express things I cannot put into words. While Mum was ill and in rehabilitation I did a lot of drawings. I used a Tarot pack on a daily basis to prompt me. Tarot is simply another way of telling the human narrative and I found the daily reading, from the single card I pulled out, a very good vehicle for expressing many of the feelings that I have had locked up.
So I am inching forward. It has been a long path but at last I am feeling a greater sense of peace.
I had a bad day just last week and cried and called his name yet again. I cannot say I have ever really felt his presence, yet my son tells me he senses that his father is here in this house that he never lived in. And I do feel that it is still the two of us. Given that we were married for thirty five years and together for forty this is not particularly surprising. Memories are etched into my heart, imprinted on my retina.
The good news is that a shift has taken place. Maybe it was because my mother's ill health took up some of my time. Perhaps it was just that the effort I had made to join in this community here began to bear fruit. It could be that I have finally accepted that it is okay to have bad days.
Whatever! My units of time have been filling up and I have been busier and engaging with the world again, not as Heather of Heather and Darryl, but as Heather, with people who never knew Darryl.
I am a writer and like to do pencil drawings. My pencil drawings help me express things I cannot put into words. While Mum was ill and in rehabilitation I did a lot of drawings. I used a Tarot pack on a daily basis to prompt me. Tarot is simply another way of telling the human narrative and I found the daily reading, from the single card I pulled out, a very good vehicle for expressing many of the feelings that I have had locked up.
So I am inching forward. It has been a long path but at last I am feeling a greater sense of peace.
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