My beloved husband, Kent, died in January 2012, 3 years after diagnosis of a brain tumour. Our son was 2 1/2 and our daughter 3 months old. He and I were far too young. I am now hurtling through the black space of life without him.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

A Marriage and a City

A city, a glorious city we made
Of stone and glass, of strength and beauty
Towers and halls, rivers and gardens
Busy streets and quiet pathways
Familiar routes and new discoveries.
Built together, with our hands and our hearts.

Starting with a roar we heard it coming
The shaking brought down our beloved city
Buildings crumpled, glass shattered
Gardens were buried
And streets cracked wide open
Everything is ruined, I said,
Everything is ruined.

Friday, 10 August 2012

It really just never goes away

When you lurch your way between the bottom of the pit and somewhere around the edge, you are always aware of what it feels like at the bottom. Have I said this already? The problem is that I am always aware that things are always as bad as at the very depths. The worst grief I experience becomes a permanent reality. I may be managing to paddle right now, to keep afloat, but that doesn't make the situation any better, it's just that I'm choosing to paddle. The reality and the pain never go away, just because I am paying them less attention at the moment. Which leads me to the question, is that how you survive this and carry on? By just not thinking about it so much? That seems like a pretty crap solution that has many flaws. I guess I will get back to you on that one.

Tuesday, 7 August 2012


Fun. I miss having fun. The little guy is fun of course. But I miss the humour that Kent and I shared and the humour that he brought. We used to have a lot of laughs. A husband and wife are a lot of things to each other, but one of these is just having fun together - that never faded for us. I miss being carefree and lighthearted. No doubt having small children and paying a mortgage and being seriously sleep deprived wouldn't be quite the same as our early married life, but compared to this of course it would be a breeze. There are fun things now, we have good days and do enjoyable things, but these come with a such large stone hung around my heart. Sometimes I want to just chuck in all the pain and sadness and say I'm done with you, but I can't, because as long as he's not here that stone will remain.