Forever

The grief that we've been feeling since Isaac died at the end of November last year has been all consuming but it also has been shifting a little as the months have passed. Sometimes now it's an ever present but lower level thing, a heaviness or a dull ache, which is liveable with and different from the sheer, raw, physical pain it was back in the spring. There were days back then when functioning was an act of survival. Now it- the grief, the loss- underpins everything but isn't at front all the time. It comes back with a vengeance sometimes, with a force that can leave me feeling like I've been winded and as if I actually have to catch my breath for a moment. One unexpected trigger or thought can be overwhelming. Occasionally recently I've been in meetings or at events and I catch myself wondering what I'm doing there when everything has changed beyond recognition for us. But I suppose the truth is that the world does go on and the sun still comes up and normality (whatever that is) does have to be restored. We can go out, we can talk and laugh and enjoy things, step outside the grief I guess, but it comes back, ebbing in, almost tidal in the way it moves. I have some further bereavement counselling starting soon which I think will help. We have a daunting autumn ahead. In late November it will be Isaac's birthday and then a week later the first anniversary of his death. Both of them loom over us. The speed at which time has passed and is passing is disconcerting too, as each month ticks by the further away in time he is. We don't know yet what we're gong to do to mark his birthday and the anniversary of his death- I don't think any of us are looking forward to it. Nearer the time we'll work it out. 

We haven't got a gravestone arranged yet either which remains a thing which has to be done but without a deadline. There's something about a stone which is so permanent. The planter and potted flowers that have been marking his grave are ever changing. We've been visiting weekly, more than that sometimes, tidying up and staying for a while. It helps, it keeps him close to us, but it's hard too and it brings the enormity of it flooding back in sometimes. In some ways though, that flood of grief and tears is a good thing, a reminder that while we can attempt to get something of our normal, lives back, he will always be there even though he physically isn't. 

I'm back at work this week. I went back to work in January after Isaac died on reduced hours, only going in to teach my classes. I had a late start some days and left early every day due to my timetable. I had none of my wider whole school responsibilities and this worked I think, helped me establish a routine (even if there were times when I wondered what the fuck I was doing being back at work and dealing with some of the stuff a busy secondary school chucks at you). My classes were all exam classes, GCSE or A level, and I felt I should be there for them. In the summer it was agreed that I would step down from my whole school role and return to be head of department, a much smaller role, lower down the hierarchy (and with the pay cut to go with it). This was much chewed over back in June, caused me a lot of thought, but I think I've made the right decision. But, being back now, full time in a new role, watching other people doing my old role, is taking some getting used to. Being back full time is also another sign of things going back to 'normal' (whatever that is- I'm not sure things will ever be normal again). Being 'back to normal' is another sign that things change, everything moves on and in some ways it doesn't feel right to move on. There's something to talk over and attempt to resolve there. 

These things come together sometimes in a way which is neat and tidy and coincidental. In 1970 The Beach Boys released an album, Sunflower- yesterday's post was a pair of sunflower pictures and a pair of sunflower songs. The Beach Boys' Sunflower was recorded when they were out of fashion, massively out of step with the rock sounds of 1970, post- Woodstock and post- Altamont. They were in massive debt and Brian was at his most erratic and reclusive. It is probably their best post- Pet Sounds album. Two of the songs slipped into my consciousness recently, suggested subliminally maybe by the sunflowers. One of them then hit me good and proper.

Forever was written by Dennis Wilson, a two minutes forty two seconds song of devotion, a ballad and in the words of his brother Brian, 'a rock n roll prayer'. 'Let the love I have for you/ Live in your heart/ And beat forever' they boys sing, harmonies ascending and soaring. The song floats away with the lines, 'So I'm goin' away/ But not forever/ I gotta love you anyway/ Forever'. 

Forever