We sat here in these chairs and talked for weeks about impending death. And now i sit here and your chair is empty.
I’ve been looking at pictures of your life as we gather images for the funeral slide show, and i’m wondering who is this woman i’m looking at? I don’t recognize her at all. I’m slowly realizing that the last 4 years have been so coloured by cancer and chemo and the failing body that i’ve completely forgotten who you were before all that. My memories are so coloured and overshadowed by medical things and cancer things that I’m not able to retrieve at present memories from before. I’m hoping they come back. I’m hoping memories captured in these images return to my brain and push out the current overpowering memories of death and dying.
The calendar says it’s spring. The weather however isn’t in agreement. You died almost a week ago and god has been crying raindrops and snow flakes ever since. The weather is reflective of my current mood. I’m mostly grateful for this weather, it means i can sit inside and not feel like i should be doing anything else but that. But i would like the sun and flowers to come up soon, it’s your birthday next week and I can’t imagine celebrating your birthday in the snow.
Grief comes in waves, some stronger than others, hitting with ferocity i didn’t think possible. The house feels empty, despite the constant activity. Your spirit is still here even tho your body is not. I see you in the furniture, at the table, i see you in bed, dying. I want to remember you living, I hope those memories will come back soon.