Snippets of Grief

 It's been 3 months since I heard your voice. How can it be so long, and yet... not?

It's January 1st; the first January first without you in it since 1972. The first without you in my life in some form for the past six or so years. What did we do last year? I can't even remember.

 Why did you leave me like this, folly-nook? (I don't know what that is, but apparently it's a shakespearian insult.)

 Sometimes I can't write to you because it means admitting you're gone. Sometimes I can't write to you because I'm too exhausted, and I just want you to lie across my couch and listen while I rant. 

 Why couldn't you take me with you, you bastard?

 Yesterday was busy, but not as bad as I feared. I missed you, of course I did, and there was sadness, but there were also moments of beauty and joy. I know you're hanging out at H's place with Summer, by the way. She and M hear you walking on the floorboards. Thank you for helping Summer settle in her new home. Today I'm remembering those little moments, like when you bought my Apple TV just before Christmas last year, and I kept urging you to wait until the Boxing Day sales. And the fun we had doing the sales together. Did you see how cleaned out everything was even at 9am?? It was really bizarre. I just. Fuck, man. I miss you, you big asshat.

 Things have been so busy and chaotic, but not for a moment have I really lost sight of you not being here. I made ornaments for your kids, and I gave little gifts to your grandkids. Missy has lots of new Christmas outfits, and some new toys. The tree is up and in the loungeroom. The treats are (mostly) made and chilling in the fridge. I usually love Christmas, I would give it all up for the chance to have you back. PS, Support Service 1 is, of course, making life more difficult than it has to be. You would be furious.

 Christmas plans are well underway, but it still feels weird to be doing it all without you. Last night, F and I went into the city to see the Myer windows, and as I'm sure you saw, they were a disappointment. Still, it was a good night.

 80 days since I started these little notes to you. Most of the first little "oh man" moments are done now, I think. It'll be the big ones still, of course, but the silly things are probably done. I'm not sure why I feel the need to mention that, but there we go. We took Summer and Missy to see the Christmas lights last night. You would have been so proud of them both. Not only did they not try to eat (m)any of the people walking past, but they were both * in the back seat *! It was different, driving to see them, instead of going on the bus, but I still missed you.

 Tomorrow will be 84 days since my world came apart. I still cry all the time, I still feel like a traitor every time I laugh. I still wonder how the world keeps on turning without you.

 We just.. miss you.

 Sometimes I don't understand how the world just goes on turning. I saw your boss today, when I was at the shops with Y. She always looks so sad. I wish I knew how to help. We all miss you, so so much.

 Almost all I have done for the past few days has been sleep. I don't know if it's mental or physical or both, but today... today was different. Today we visited your girl in her new home, and I know you were there too. I don't understand why I almost never feel you, but maybe it's because I feel you in laughter, and deeper joy, and there's been so little of that. Whatever it is. You were there today and Summer was herself, and it was a precious day. Thank you for giving me what I needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

 I hate feeling like a postscript on your life, when we were so linked. Maybe I wasn't in love with you, but that doesn't diminish the love I did hold for you, nor does it lessen the impact on my life now that you're gone. Something else to blame you for, hose-nugget.

 Today I discovered I can't go into JB Hi-Fi anymore, because it's yours. Even thinking of it takes me back to a year ago, when you bought me my Apple TV, and then the tears well and my throat swells shut.

 Summer is settling well with her new mama, but I think you already know that. F says she feels you here every time she comes, but I don't. I felt you that day on the beach, and I haven't really felt you since, though yesterday all I could smell was ice coffee. I know that was you, but eesh. Couldn't you have picked something better, ya goose?

With Summer gone, it feels as though all the pieces of you are slowly disappearing into nothing. You are just a picture in a photograph, a name on my tongue.

 Thank you. H is the perfect mama for your Summer, and I know you orchestrated this. I'm still so very sad she's gone, but I know this is the right next step. K and I are going to the movies this afternoon, to see The Witches. I wish you could come with us. Added bonus, your ticket would be free... PS, since I haven't called you anything interesting lately, I just wanted to remind you that you're a rancorous tallow-faced scurvy-knave. You're welcome.

 It's been a big couple of days. I wish you were here to talk to, but of course, if you were here to talk to, some of this hurt wouldn't need to be talked about. Your children all have been by in the last couple of days to say their goodbyes to Summer, because we - as I am sure you know - organised H to take her. She's just gone. I feel like I failed you, that I couldn't keep her longer; and I feel so sad that she's not here anymore - not just for her own goofy sake, but because there's another piece of you gone.

I can't believe it's been 2 months since I started this, two months since you left us.