The truth about "doing so well"

Grief nailed me today, to my reality. Out of the blue it came. Again. I had just finished a great coffee session with some beautiful friends at our local cafe. I was told of how well I was doing and how inspiring I am, in the way I am getting on with life. We chatted and we laughed. I told them of our weekend in Taranaki. It was a beautiful time with whanau. I spoke of how I get it now - I finally understand the need to be near your loved ones final resting place. I had always believed that it is just the body that remains, that there is nothing left of the person who has died, so had thought it did not matter if you could not get to visit graves frequently. Now, no place feels better to me now than sitting in the urupa next to my wifes lovely bones. It is where I belong. Where one day I will end up too. We finished our coffee date and I came home. And then whamo. Like a freight train through me it came. With our children out playing with their cousins I seized the opportunity and allowed grief to take me. I will cry openly around my Martha and Pirika however I will not let grief assault me when they are present. Grief rapes. Takes you when you are unwilling and rams it's pain into you. So alone, I stared it in the face. "Come on you bastard, give it to me". And it did. I cried from the bottom of my feet. I hurt. I wailed. I yelled. I hit a wall - literally. I felt angry and completely and utterley sorry for myself. I felt weak and I felt alone. More alone than I have ever felt. I felt guilty for "doing so well". For feeling joy, for even feeling. I felt abandoned. "Why?" I yelled "why why why why why?". Grief does not give back in its assault. When it was done I was left on my bedroom floor. Tear stained, violated by memories of struggle and pain, and again, alone. To be separated permanently from the person I had planned my life around, from my soul mate - hurts. It is a pain that I would wish on no one - however we will all feel this if we are blessed to have truly loved. I miss my Jacky. Every day. I work hard to find joy and to laugh. Every day. "She aint coming back" is a mantra I repeat over and over and over. It helps me. In Jackys place is grief. Sometimes my friend who brings insight and revelations. Today my perpertrator. It is what it is. All I have to do is breathe. Joy will find it's way back in. I can feel it in the distance already.

Escapism

The online thesaurus from microsoft word lists the below when you type "escapism" and hit the enter key: "diversion, distraction, pastime, leisure activity, getting away from, dodging, avoidance". When you enter the word "grief" the results are: "sorrow, heartache, anguish, pain, misery, unhappiness, angst, woe, joy (Antonym)".

It seems clear to me that a certain amount of escapism is surely acceptable infact more to the point sensible, to help me to orientate successfully the river of grief that now lies within me. And clearly amongst grief - there is joy! What a revelation of my new life. You cannot escape grief and nor would you want to when you start to learn that it is like a hand print on your soul from those you have lost.. it would appear grief is becoming my friend and I have accepted this gift whilst using a fair amount of handpicked escapism. I have always maintained - when you are fussy you only end up with the best.

Jacky visited me last week. She came to me in the middle of the night whilst I was laying on my mattress in the middle of twelve beautiful sleeping children. I was parent help on Marthas school camp. Of course my Jacky would come to me then. She adored our school and our tamariki. It was a lucid coversation we had, Jacky and I. She told me of how she was fine and that all she wanted for me was happiness. She told me how she knew that I was strong enough to be the mother that Pirika and Martha needed in this life and that as long as I was happy, and my babys were happy that this was all that mattered. There was more conversation and I was able to ask questions of her and she gave me answers.

Jacky was an incredible mother. Being the "last Mama standing" has been overwhelming for me in that I have felt on a daily basis - inadequate. My own insecurity. How could I possibly be up to par - Jacky is a hard act to follow, on any level. She was a DIVINE mother. However accepting my role in this, that I must be able to be great!, or else I would not be here, has been a lesson that I have spent the last 6 weeks learning, and will go on learning as a mother until the day that I too finish with breath.

So escapism which has always held a negative connotation for me is now a tool that when used with raw emotion and reality appears to lead to joy. And if I have learnt one thing from the death of my beautiful Jacky Sinclair-Phillips, it is that I will live my life allowing my heart to sing! Again my wife, Thank you.

An older poem

I wrote the below poem sometime between Jackys first surgery June 11th and her major surgery July 31st. She was in agony as during her first surgery the Doctors in all of their doctor wisdom had resected or cut in half her tumour and the beast went wild inside of her. From 2 days post surgery Jackys world turned into one of pain management that would stay with her until she died. I was told by someone "you don't have to be tough all of the time you know". The below was my response to this statement. When I shared this poem with some close friends at the time one of my dearest said that they thought I had summed up Jacky perfectly! Ironic thing was I was attempting to sum up myself. Me and my wife were kindred souls though, it's true. And she was certainly, tough. In the most kind and gentle and passive ways.
Perhaps this will help someone who is finding them self in the damned situation of having to be "tough"?



Tough people lay awake in the middle of the night when dis ease has finally allowed the rest of the family to be asleep at the same time
Even the Dear one in most pain
Tough people know that you do not weep openly like a broken child when you are being strong for your family,
you do this when they cannot see or hear you -
for it is your grief and they do not need it added to their own
Tough people cry silently alone in their beds into their pillows so that no one wakes to hear them Tough people WANT to run screaming into the night and find somewhere to hide from this all until it becomes untrue
Tough people know that will never happen
Tough people want to bash their fists upon their chests and proclaim FURY to the Gods and Goddesses and yell:
HOW DARE YOU FUCKEN DO THIS TO ME – TO US!
HOW DARE YOU MAKE MY LOVED ONES SUFFER AND MY CHILDREN WATCH AND FEEL THIS!
HOW DARE YOU, HOW DARE YOU!
DAMN YOU AND DAMN YOU NOW!
Tough people don’t.
Tough people reassure their children every day that they need not worry
that worry is not their job that NO MATTER WHAT this Mama will look after them,
after their other, after EVERYTHING
Tough people know that this is their own job
Tough people try to find humour when they feel Truly deeply sorry for themselves
Tough people snap out of that pitiful state – they know it does not cure dis ease
Tough people anger at being told they live in resistance as though this is a bad thing
Tough people need to get their strength from somewhere else
Anywhere they can, actually
Tough people use the words “it will be ok” and “I’m good” often
Tough people do not know what you mean when you say “If there is anything I can do let me know?”
Tough people may not even know what they may need You to do,
as they are too busy with being tough and working on each day
Tough people want healing and miracles and health and laughter and JOY for their family
That’s all
Tough people Love, and are Thankful and are fearful and have GOOD friends
Tough people learn early on in life You do need to be tough – nearly all of the time, and
Tough people know
This too will pass.

Rivers

River swimming has always been my favourite kind of swimming. Against the current first for as long and as far as you choose, then the bliss when you get to surrender to it, and float, hopefully without too much effort, back down the path you have just been. Rivers have dark spots that you cannot see into, and bends and turns that you may not anticipate and also glorious well sun lit blue turquoise pools that meander you through them.. river swimming has it all, I believe as far as swimming goes.
It seems to me that Grief inside You is like a river flowing. It sits within You, under the surface and is constant. Initially you drown in it and wonder how it is that life can go on when you have no ability to breathe whilst in this grief, then it changes as everything does. It does not hurt all of the time, now, for me. Infact I have already had many many times of joy, pleasure and laughter - however I know that the river is there. I see the joyous times as those when I have reached the turquoise pool.. and then just as quickly as the joyful moments, you then arrive at a darkend place in this river and although these places are so gut wrenching lonely - you know you will pass them - the river always has more. I am as the Earth it would seem. With this beautiful river now within me of whose water is made of the love that Jacky and I shared. More than two decades of it makes for an ever changing vibrantly gentle and in some places torrential body of water. River swimming has always been my favourite and again I find myself the luckiest woman in the world.

And then there was joy!

It surprised me - the first time I laughed till my sides hurt - after Jacky died. I actually had stared at a coca cola advert that is plastered on the side of a hotel in Durham Street several times on my way to hospital and had pondered the thought that I would probably never feel happy again. The bill board was based on the word HAPPINESS and it was squashed into a coke bottle and spilling out the top showering slender happy healthy people who were dancing in coca cola. It seemed as if happiness were as unreal as the bill board to me at that time - and it was. However joy has found its way into my heart again, or I have chosen to let it in. I have been constantly astounded at the places from which love has been arriving for us. Our beautiful friends, our community, our school, our whanau have been cradeling us - wrapping us in a wonderful blanket woven gently with Love. And how warm and soft it is. So along with joy - I have a new sense of being blessed, more than I have ever felt before. I was having a coversation with one of our dearests last weekend and we were sharing Jacky feelings and I found myself proclaiming "I feel more powerful now in my life than I have ever felt since Jacky died and I know that this is a gift she left me". Big statement. Sigh. And its true. Our dear friend looked me in the eye and said "I bet you do because so do I and she was only my friend". How my heart grew with this chat. To have joy amongst such deep grief you need to allow yourself to be. Anything. Feel. Anything. There are no rules and there are no right ways or wrong ways. This part of journey for me is just about being. Nothing more nothing less. Being so that I have room to laugh until my sides hurt. And so that I may continue to love like I have never been hurt, this one is tricky and I am not sure possible however I will always dance in the rain. Storms have always been my favourite kind of weather. I love you Jacky. Thank you Thank you Thank you. xo

Damn this grief

You can't escape it. Or even forget it for a second. The loss of my soul mate is too huge. Too big babe - this wasn't the plan. Sometimes you are able to surface and breathe and then the depth of sadness pulls you down again and I find myself drowning in it - in my own tears. I yearn to see Jacky. I yearn to be held by her. I yearn to see her smile. I yearn to hear her voice, even just to have a cup of tea with her. How I yearn for you my love. I do my crying when my children are asleep or when there are snippets of moments when they are busy. Don't get me wrong I cry with them too - we are real and we share grief. However it is my job to carry them through this. I am the Mama left in this world. Their rock. And I cannot add to their grief by pouring mine on top of it. I hold them and tell them constantly that we will all be fine. We will miss Mama forever but that she is fine and we will be too. We talk about how to find joy in each day, and I do for them. All the whilst feeling completely lost and alone in this, grief. The long long road of my life stretches before me and being unable to see the end and knowing I have to walk this road without my one true love by my side is daunting. Thank the heavens for our Children Jacky - thank the universe for Timoti, for Renee, for our precious Pirika and our sweet beautiful Martha whom every day are walking living reminders of You - and of us. The Sinclair-Phillips whanau. What a superb whanau we created. Sunday today - 20 days since you took your last breath here baby. How did our first 20+ years dissappear more quickly than the last 20 days have? Today we will go and visit friends and find joy - again. It is my only goal in life now. To find joy for Pirika and Martha in each day. And through them - I will receive joy. XO..

A poem

Behold my friends for I am grief
Look away if you must
I am not very attractive
however I can promise you will meet me again
I leave no one untouched
When I come you will not mistake me
I twist and contort all that is your reality
I'll make you feel dead in a place deep inside
lower than your heart and not quite in your stomach
I believe you may call it your gut
Your instinctual centre will numb during my stay
I'm the price that you pay for having loved so they say
And pay? Yes you will, in pain.
I will render you joyless
Make you sleepless at night
When the sun rises gloom will greet you each day
Ill make you question all that you know
And Ill drag out my stay to ensure that you are made acutely aware that
You have loved
I will over time allow you to breathe without me however
when you least expect I will appear within you again
Behold my friends for I am grief
Look away if you must
We will meet again one day.