I needed to get out of the house this morning to shake off the cobwebs of the past week with a walk to get the papers and milk - we put our snow boots on and off we went to play in the snow down at Hove lagoon park. On the way back Lani got cold fingers and cried until he fell asleep right outside the front door (how do they know?), once back inside he's woken up and asking for extra spoonfuls of ibuprofen - duly administered. So this will be written with a few interruptions as he has not gone down for his midday nap yet.
So I've been feeling low lately, in fact so low that in the wee hours - when i've been kicked awake by Lani I can't get back to sleep I've had recurring flashbacks to this time last year when I still had my sister with me (we were in LA together visiting family). My thoughts unavoidably and horribly go to her tragic accidental death by drowning on her Greek island during a flash flood. I relive those moments of the buzzer going on my door at 7am - my 45 year old brother who i've never seen cry coming in sobbing and saying you've got to ring mum, it's Tosh....And that phone call to my mother where i hung up screaming....
Then i go on to think about death itself - i know you're probably thinking, cheery reading for a Sunday morning...but i believe writing is cathartic and it gets it out there - at least out of my head anyway and may help me or even others grieving in some small way- if you've lost someone dear then you know what I mean. I think about death, life stopping and her life and what she left behind and what she still had in front of her. Then of course my own life comes into question - what have I done with MY life? Why am I still here? Losing my sister has highlighted the meaning of life for me, how great is that? The positive people might say it can help you, my counsellor at Cruse Bereavement believes that grief is a 'gift' in that you become a deeper person and can use it in a 'transformational' way to make changes in yourself. Well it's not that great is my answer and the whole process is extremely painful and i'd swap it any day for being a little less self e(in)volved and have my sister back. But i can't , she's gone and I have to face that terrible fact. Terrifying fact. I will not see her walk in here again and laugh with me , see my son grow up, see her own sons grow up for that matter, or laugh at life, at our lives ( a common theme), our familial jokes were the glue she was the glue in our scattered highly disfunctional family. I miss being close to her. As the anniversary of her death looms I prepare for the worst.
To ease my pain apart from comfort eating, i 'comfort-watch' tv, 'Girls' is a favourite right now, just discovered 'How to Make It in America', but these shows are bittersweet as i enjoy their sassy writing, publically lauded 'uncomfortable ' sex scenes, and can't help but feel inadequate myself and OLD - they are about the younger generation who are writing producing and directing and fucking starring in these things...Go Lena Dunham but you put us almost 40 something careerless ladies to shame. I also like dumbing down as i've said before a fave is CBS reality shows like "I Survived Beyond and Back", CBS mysteries and crime shows, I also drop in on Sally Morgan - Psychic on the road with Sally; this tv thing is an ongoing addiction but my counsellor says you have to do what you find comfort in doing for as long as it takes - so i still do it..
I want to believe there is another life after this one, that she is 'waiting for us', that perhaps even on a quantum level we all exist forever on different frequencies....I know dear reader but that is the kind of thing you WANT to believe when a loved one dies, I for one can't help it. I want to believe we go on, that she is now an angel watching over us however far from reality that maybe I derive comfort from it and it's better than the alternative. On a practical level I'm also organising a beautiful memorial on Feb 6th at a small Church in Rottingdean a place she loved, many people who loved her will gather and share our love for her. A good thing and an important thing to do as most of us missed her Greek funeral as they buried her the day after she left this world and we had to fly down in bleak mid winter to that dreadful rainsoaked island....she used to call it "Shutter island" as she felt trapped there. After her divorce which was a big disappointment to her, she stayed on the island to make sure her boys could be brought up with their father in their life.This was a sacrifice on her part as many English or foreign divorcees hightail it outta there and make a life back home. She was more than a good mother.
Saturday I spent the whole day ( in between all the above household chores and general looking after my son making an 'A4 memorial photobook' ( a groupon deal) -I was forced to look at beautiful photos of what was a very FULL life. All the parties and children and friends on that Island, and our visits to her that I can't help but feel it wasn't always "shutter island" it was just a life and with that comes the ups and downs that we all experience.
taken after a coffee and when first showing Lani the snow - so I was relatively cheerful.
