Eight months on and hitting a better patch, I think I can handle stuff. How wrong I am. How naive. So I open the Pandora's Box, pull out something which should be left alone, and find myself hurled headlong back down right to the bottom of the pit, right back to that place I found myself just after D's death. And it's all my own fault, because I had to know, had to pick away at something that did me no good.
Lessons to learn: no matter how long we live with someone, we can never really know them, just as we never really understand ourselves until we face the ultimate question presented by 'the end.' We all have private and maybe secret parts of our lives - not necessarily sinister, just things we keep to ourselves which help us through this mess called life. And I had to know, had to know something about D which maybe had not much significance in the Big Picture, but in the grieving fragile state in which I am, did me no good. So, I felt hurt and betrayed, angry with D, wanting to cut up his best suit, dig him up and stick a knife in him, pour paint all over his books, anything to vent my anger and get rid of my hurt. (And I'm sorry if you read this and think I am crazy. This is what Grief does to you.)
Thank goodness for good friends. One friend jumps in her car and hurtles up the road to arrive on my doorstep with tissues, sandwiches and a shoulder to cry on. Because I have spent the night on the kitchen floor howling like a wild animal. (Haven't done that since D died, as I said.) And, being tired, hungry and needing support, I am in even more of a mess than when I started unravelling things. Another dear friend on this wonderful Mac site pms me and tells me the picture from the other side, reminds me what it must be like dealing with so much that you don't want to hurt the ones you love, so sometimes you talk about your fears outside the family. Neighbours distract me by taking me out for the evening.
And slowly I start to put me back together again, to deal with the rollercoaster that is grief, the twists and turns, the surprises, the unexpected...........
And maybe I needed a kick that this has given me. I've done my bit, done more than my bit, witnessed and lived through more than many humans will ever have to deal with, and now it's my turn to live, to leave behind, to remember the good and discard the rubbish, not to be dragged down by the effects of the stinking slimy all-pervading legacy of cancer and what it does to families and loved ones, never mind the sufferers....
Will I learn.......... ? We shall see....
Little Jen XXX
