Grief is a slippery beast. I’ve explored that in my novel* Don’t worry that’s not a spoiler, it’s not out in the world. Yet? And it’s not entirely doom and gloom, there are jokes. At least two.

It can jump out at you from nowhere, grief, not my novel. Or even hide. And reaction to it can be the same. Sometimes tears flow, but not always. I was once at a funeral, choking back tears, even though I hardly knew the person, and then able to listen dry eyed when the person I was with, told me the truly heart rending story of their young grand child’s death.

I find it’s the recognition that something will never happen again, that makes it real. It’s not only death that brings this about. A lost relationship can be the same, even if when you’re the instigator of the break up. I remember waking up the morning after leaving my ex-husband and feeling like a child who’d just discovered Santa didn’t exist. Sorry another spoiler.

I suppose it was the realisation that the ‘happy ever after’ wasn’t coming true. Then a week or so later on my way home from work I saw a freight train, laden with brand new Mini Coopers, this was the late eighties. And cue that emptiness. My ex and I had hankered after one of those cars, and now suddenly, here were hundreds, in all the splendour of their ‘Italian Job’ colour ways. But the only person I could have shared this excitement with was gone from my life. It had been my choice, but still that ‘never again’ sadness.

Today has been bright and sunny, we’ve had a very wet start to the year here in the west of Scotland. It’s the calm before a threatened storm.** MrS and I walked over the hill near our house. Sadly without DogS, she’s hurt her leg and is on house arrest, so we have to sneak out without her noticing.

‘i can put up wiv it if i has big bed privileges’

We enjoyed the view that’s been pretty much invisible on our last few walks. And I stopped to take pictures.

Just for a moment I thought … this is nice, I’ll have something new to show Dad when I speak to him. I send him photos of my walks, meals, or DogS being cute. He sends me wildlife he’s seen on his walks.I’d had a similar reaction to the chips MrS made for our supper last night. Food being pretty important in the various Starke households, MasterS once observed that nearly all our family conversations revolved around it.

But that’s not going to happen. He stopped going out for walks before Christmas. And I’ve shared my last photos.

Dad died yesterday.

Marina x

*this is one of the first times I’ve called it that. I have to tell myself it is one, even if it’s unpublished and (almost) unread.

**Dudley, due to arrive with 90mph winds tomorrow. Yikes.

***And explaining that February thing

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s