The days are very strange at the moment. Wake up early, everything crashes back in a millisecond later. The anxious knot reappears in the stomach, the tightness in the chest. The realisation that emotional pain can be so physical, so bodily present. Lie in bed for ages because it seems better than facing the day. Then the morning disappears, you shake yourself into doing something and then suddenly it's going dark. Evening stretches out and it's bedtime. Repeat.
The funeral was attended by huge numbers of people, the wake too, and we gave him the send off he deserved. It was all consuming but now it's done- the planning, organisation and the detail and the tenseness of waiting for it- we're left the dealing with the absence of him. And Christmas less than a week away. I've only just really twigged that it's December. Time seemed to pause on the last day of November and now someone's unclicked the pause button and it's the 20th December.
My unplanned Elizabeth Fraser vocal trip took me down to the inevitable end of that road yesterday when I played Song To The Siren, a three minute and thirty second wave of sadness and loss.
This re- edited version by In The Valley is depending on your point of view either a crime or a beautifully Balearic, slightly dubby re- imagining of This Mortal Coil's cover of Tim Buckley's song. I'm going with the latter.
Well there are quite a few versions of Song To The Siren but very few bad ones. This is a good one.
ReplyDeleteI can't begin to imagine how you must all be feeling this week. Be kind to yourselves and don't put yourselves under any pressure.
Your words are low-key yet moving. You have dealt with this tragedy with great dignity and I'm proud that you are my son-in-law. Life will go on and time will heal and Isaac will play his part as we remember and reminisce about all the wonderful moments he gave us.
ReplyDeleteLovely, yet heart breaking post Adam. The rhetoric goes that funerals give us closure, but in reality, they're there to keep us going in that first wave of all consuming grief - a beacon to cling to in the hope it will bring some comfort. I've found that the numbness and emptiness you feel after the day are difficult and confusing, so keep doing what you need to keep doing and know that lots of people are thinking of you. Take care of each other
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your thoughts, Adam. I hope that the act of writing, listening to music, finding a path to healing all help but I appreciate that it's a continuing journey. As Rickyotter said, there are lots of people thinking of you and your family every day and wishing you well. All the best.
ReplyDeleteThanks all.
ReplyDeleteRicky- you're right about funerals, closure and the aftermath. Exactly what we've found.