personal
Published on September 5, 2022
Comments 28

Sometimes it smashes on my head like a water balloon

written by
Being playful keeps you young, over 50 or over 80

Hello folks, thanks for dropping by.

Today, as I crossed the street in my small Australian regional town, I passed a handsome hairy wolfhound crossing the other way.

“What a great-looking dog; Mum would have loved to stop and say hello to him,” I thought.

And there it came: the burst of sadness upon me, running through my mind and body like cold water from a balloon.

I didn’t cry, or even sniff. I kept walking to the supermarket and health food store, but trailing my dripping heart behind me, just for a moment.

She’s been gone one year, two months. And I’m relieved she’s free of dementia, as I’ve said many times, as well as all the painful memories and stresses which came between us as I grew up.

But sometimes, I wish I could call her. I’d love to tell her about the wonderful film I just saw, ‘Good luck to you Leo Grande’ with Emma Thompson (you MUST see it if you haven’t already). Or the delicious fancy meal my son ’22’ and I recently shared, which she’d have oohed and aahed over.

I’d love to tell her that the native shrub I planted for her when she died, is flowering now, in her favourite vivid colour.

I’d love her to know how well we’re doing, despite losing her, and that she’s lucky she’s not here any more, to be devastated by the war in Ukraine, and the terrible floods in Pakistan.

*sigh

Sometimes the cold flood of loss and grief washes over me, just like a water bomb reaching its target, then it passes.

Does anything like that ever happen to you?

In gratitude for resilience in the face of loss, however big, however small- it all hurts the soul- G xO

28 Comments

  1. S_MW says

    Oh G…I felt this! I’ve gone from writing every 5 minutes to the very occasional blog (or reblog more usually) because I just don’t have anything to write about. My only real contribution lately was about a television series that resurfaced, to my great delight, which reminded me of my beloved dad. On the last episode I felt quite bereft and continue to do so, actually. I went to mum’s one day recently and took every Ed McBain book of Dad’s that were left there because of the memories these hold of him. They’re all in a bag in my lounge because I don’t have room on my bookshelf but I HAD to have them. Besides that I have these moments, sometimes glancing seconds of memories which can bring me to tears still after nearly 6 years of Dad being gone.

    It hurts, but I often remind myself how much less it does. One day, perhaps about 3 years after we lost him, I suddenly realised just how glad I am to have had him in my life for so long…. I try to remind myself of this when I feel sad.

    Much love to you. p.s. My 84 year old mum is travelling to Australia this week on her own, for the last time (she expects). ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • bone&silver says

      Hi! How lovely this post promoted you to write and share memories ❤️
      I miss seeing you around here 😊
      Yes, I still miss my Dad after 13 years, but the pain has definitely eased a lot. So I get it.

      How exciting your Mum is coming to Oz- that’s a big trip- where is she heading & for how long? Sending my best wishes to you xx

      Like

      Reply
    • bone&silver says

      Thank you Cathy- yes, I lost my Dad 13 years ago, but when it happens it’s not as vivid as with Mum, which makes sense of course. I’m glad you like the shrub, & thank you for commenting 🙏🏼

      Like

      Reply
  7. Ann Coleman says

    Grief is like that…it can hit you in a wave you didn’t see coming, and knock you over completely. The good thing is it doesn’t last. Just let yourself cry until you’re done. Hugs to you!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  8. Widdershins says

    Greif’s funny like that. I lost a very dear friend last year and when I think of her, it’s as though she still occupies that place in my heart she always had. 🙂 … that movie is on my list. Anything with Emma is worth watching, eh? 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • bone&silver says

      Sorry for your loss.

      But yes: Team Emma here! A friend even said I’m a bit like her (the silver hair/suits/feisty attitude/pommy accent): biggest compliment I’ve ever had over 50!

      Like

      Reply
  10. candidkay says

    I’ve always thought that the analogy of grief as a wave is an apt one. You’re fine one moment and the next, knocked over with little warning by something seemingly innocuous. Wishing you peace and sending a hug. And yes, Emma Thompson was brilliant in that movie. Such a statement about women’s relationships with their bodies . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  11. amandAVN says

    I spent 4 months of last year doing live-in carework with people living with Dementia. My oldest client was 65 years old, and the oldest was 92. It was an eye opener. I can imagine some of what you must have gone through. My father is nearly 83, and we are grateful for his good health. Please remember to treasure the good times.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • bone&silver says

      Thank you for reading & commenting- yes, I do treasure the good stuff, and sometimes that makes me feel sad. Well done for taking on a challenging job; I don’t think I could do it 🙏🏼

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  12. Rivergirl says

    Reading this post has choked me up as I experience the exact same thing. Lost my mother to cancer in 2014, but I still have unexpected moments like you described. I try to smile at good memories through the tears, but sometimes it’s hard.
    ❣️

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s