Thursday, May 17, 2012

17th May 2012

It’s time to say goodbye and move on. I just hope I have the strength to do it; yes my love for Jane burns as fiercely as ever, no matter the passage of almost a year since she died. But there’s nothing to be gained by holding on, she’s gone forever from this life. And now having spent 12 months with tears in my eyes nearly every single day, enough is enough. I just have to find a way to let go, she has no place in my world any more. My love for her has to be locked away permanently, never to see the light of day. Love, every love, needs to be expressed in some way; it has to have focus. And for me that focus has to be towards the living, not the dead. Jane’s legacy is to be seen all around me; in our children, our grandchildren and in who I am as a person. Her influence was massive. Her daily input is ended. I cannot live imagining she’s still with me, encouraging, comforting, rebuking… whatever. This morning my Loughborough daughter phoned for a ‘chat’. Sunday was her husband’s birthday and they went for a picnic with good friend who was close to full term pregnant with her first child. A few hours later the baby had died… a lovely day turned so unexpectedly to tragedy. Where was Jane when such a horrible thing happened? Sorely missed when facing such an upset and I’m not sure if telephone hugs work the same from a dad. We cried together, maybe that was enough. But I cry at just about everything nowadays.

Even 5 years ago, I was rather a different person. I’ve been through things I could never have imagined would happen. Another 5 years and I suppose I’ll be as different again. But my memory of Jane is forever frozen in time. She can never change, in one sense she’ll always be with me but I will change. I have to. 2007 I’d sit with Jane, hold her hand a lot, and have fun. 2012, this evening, I sit alone with my Kindle for company and truth be told my latest sci-fi novel is genuinely laugh out loud at times so I still have fun! But I’m expecting a lot of these next few days as I’m planning to travel to Deal tomorrow, for at least a week this time. I’ll spend time with the Lord, in a way that works for me. I need a different environment, maybe at least say hello to some different people, whatever; I just need to step out of normal life, there’s too much happening at the moment. Too many people dying as well… my daughter’s friend’s baby, then 6 young children apparently killed by petrol bomb as they slept in the night, and finally a well-known brave little 7 year old with cancer. Oh yes, my son has just been told his job will almost certainly be ending within a few weeks. And this lunchtime I broke a tooth… no pain, but no appointment available for a couple of weeks. I need to focus upon the Lord, all this other stuff is too much right now.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.’ (NLT)


Fiona said...

As children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,
because He was my friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him,
in peace, to work alone;
I hung around and tried to help,
with ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back and cried,
"How can you be so slow?"
"My child," He said,
"What could I do?
You never did let go."

Saw this today, it struck a chord with me. Praying for you :-)

Matt Page said...

I don't always get the chance to read these, but did today. One of my friends, who lost his son the day after he was born, says that grieving is the process of coming to acceptance. I don't know if that's true - I've not yet lost someone really, really close to me - but I thought it might be worth sharing on the off chance it's true.


David Paine said...

Thanks Fiona and Matt... I really appreciate you taking time to care.