Saturday, 23 October 2010

When someone you love becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure

What can I say about grief without sounding pretentious? We all know the deal- death is a part of life; loss will get better with time, so on and so forth. Blah blah blah. Whatever I type sounds trite and forced, akin to something that graces the pages of a self-help guide in a bargain bin of a 99p store.

My Granddad died. I had longed for his passing- to see him free from his painful existence. 'Life' does not fit. Despite my expectation, the news stunned the breath from my body.

After a loss there is a moment when you realise things will never be the same. A millisecond, an intake of breath, a beat in your breast. You'll never hear his voice, his laugh. See his face. Hold his hand. Share his smile. And all too soon, time intrudes into seconds, a breath exhaled, a beat in your head. And that's it. Change. Forever.

Now, reader, I think of him. Fear I did not know him as best I could, wish he was here so I could ask him thousands of questions unanswered, study him with my eyes and trap his detail to my memories. He would be the feast and I would gorge because I could never be full.

Instead he watches me in black and white from a silver frame on the edge of my desk. A smile teases his eyes. He is free. And, for now, that I will treasure.


  1. I am so sorry for your loss, Lou.

    I think losses are nearly impossible to capture in words. If you haven't gone through it before, you can't imagine it. It's like the circle trying to imagine itself the sphere.

    hugs, dear.

  2. Great big hug, Lou. I am so sorry to read about this. Loss is the hardest thing to live through in life. But I like what you said about him being free. Just remember that. When my brother died, then my dad, I was crushed. But I know they are not suffering. I know where they are. And they are content and happy. It is I who suffer, missing them.

    I wish I could be there and take you to lunch. We'd talk about your granddad. And you'd laugh and tell me stories about him. Lovely stories. We all fear we didn't know someone as well as we should have when they've gone. It's pretty normal. And the questions. I too have many for my dad. And I knew him pretty well. (He was my dad after all.) I send lots of love and hugs, Lou. Keep writing through it. You'll be amazed at what comes from the sadness. Thinking of you. If you need me, I'm just an email away, pal.

  3. Although I believe he's in a better place now, I know nothing can ease your pain and sense of loss except for time. This lovely and touching piece also reminds me of what little time my mom, all of us really, have left.

  4. Losing a loved one is very hard to bear..We all should make use of this limited time on earth, to spend quality and quanty time with our loved ones.And learn to value and cherish those precious moments.

  5. so sorry to hear you news. Never thr right words to say here. I am sure all your readers' thoughts are with you.

  6. I really appreciate these comments. Thank you so much. :)

  7. I lost my Granddad a year ago. It is hard, but I feel creativity does help. Expressions through words or other media help to accept loss.

  8. Debbie, thanks for stopping by. I agree with you- writing my thoughts down is incredibly cathartic. I've even started writing something with all my Granddad's stories. He was the best storyteller. :)


Go on. It's free...