Once in a while it will hit me like a blow to my stomach. Not often — just occasionally, when perhaps I haven’t thought about it for a few weeks. I always know how it is I came to be living here, how I came to be teaching what I am, how I found myself taking pictures again. i know how far along the path I’ve travelled, how healed I am, how much ‘better’ my life is now. I know all of this, and I am grateful to be here. But once in a while, like this evening, I will remember. I will sit down on my sofa, with all the wind taken out of my sails. I will sit there and find I have no words, as I say over and over to myself: he died. Sometimes I think I get upset simply because I remember the pain that came after; I remember that pain more keenly than I can remember his touch. After nearly five years I can now admit the screw-ups of our relationship, and how we may not have been together today, had he still been here. I can see the failings and flaws, the disappointments and regrets. The rose-tinted specs are off and the reality check is in place. And I know that I have let him go. I know I have. But once in a while I’ll stop what I’m doing with the enormity of remembering, and I’ll wish I had said I love you more often than I did.
sending hugs because i don’t have adequate words to say
This is truly beautiful.
I’m going to go tell some people I love them right this second.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings.
Pain and Grief are such strange companions and can reappear many years later with their ol pal regret. I am proud of you for your strength and view points and your ability to heal and move forward!
Here’s to reality! Cindi
i am speechless and thankful for your honesty.
remembering can hit us out of the blue – remembering the good AND the bad makes us human. i am glad you have come past the pain and so glad that I have come across ypur blog.
Wow, what a beautiful post. I feel like you have written more in one paragraph than some people can write in an entire book. Thank you so much for sharing this incredibly insightful and honest post. kristin in toronto
Regardless of how ‘healed’ one may have become, reflecting with the enormity of remembering does suck all the air from one’s lungs.
thinking of you and your sweet soul…may peace be yours tonight.
Very beautifully written. Gave me goosebumps…thanks for sharing, Susanna.
-Wendy
One of your Unravelling students
Oh gosh Susannah – I believe that is the most beautiful thing I have read.
Thank you.
Oh Susannah…I wish I were able to reach through blogland and give you a hug…it hurts I’m sure, and I’m sure the hurt and sadness has changed a million times over the last five years, but you are healing. I too wish for that one last “i love you” or just a conversation about which color paint my mom liked better…it’s been eight years in November since she passed away, and not a day goes by that I don’t remember something… so thinking of you tonight and hoping that tomorrow will bring you a bit more happiness.
xoxox
Thanks for sharing this with us.
You have come so very far, and you could only be where you are today by walking the painful, wrenching path you have walked. But of course, sometimes the weight of the remembering must stop you in your tracks. In those moments I hope you recall as well how grateful your friends are, today, that you tell us “I love you” so often. x
I dont know what to say to be of any comfort but I do know that I want to reach out to you and say you are not alone and you are loved
beautiful and deep words, it is normal to still have those days in which you just remember, surrend yourself to those feelings and let them take you a step further.
sending you a big hug beautiful you.
Take care.
I haven’t go through something like this, but my father is not here any more…we loved each other and had strong characters so wasn’t easy all times. I love it now as well, talk to him sometimes and know about his/my fails but it is ok, remembering the best part of our relationship is the best way I feel. It helps to forget the pain. Pain grows when you think about it.
the wind touching you gently and somebody smiling at you, colours and wishes of peace and hope
Hi Susannah, I have just come across your blog and find your work very inspiring. I lost someone I loved very much suddenly about five years ago too. I relate to every single word you said.
time heals but i don’t think you ever forget. you’re in my thoughts.
Thank you for sharing this. And thank you for the reminder to tell those we love that we do love them more often.
i want to say something helpful, but I am speechless so instead i am sending a hug
Your ability to be stunning comes in the form of many gifts and talents. Clearly.
I’m new here. And glad of it.
I love YOU.
xo
Death on its own makes me to wish for death too,
adding all the ‘surroundings’ e.g. growth and grieve and healing etc. makes death + ‘friends’ = life.
And in the end, with or without the ‘friends’, the ‘i love you’s’ is all that really matter… and heal.
(don’t know if this makes sense…) xx
big hug
What a powerful reminder to say that now to the ones who are still here. They say grief comes in waves and I know it to be true as well.
Sending peace & love,
JP/deb
more hugs!
so beautiful.
you have a gift, you are able to put in those beautiful words your painful feelings. You help the sadness go away with those words. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Hi there Susannah. Thank you for sharing your journey with us…it’s such a privilege to hear your honest reflections and noticings of the many layers to healing and living. Hugs to you!
I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound cliched or trite, but reading something so moving and tender, and personal, I didn’t want to say nothing. So, I will just say that you have inspired me to ensure I tell those I love today just how much they mean to me, and I will be thankful and humble that I have the chance to do so. x
There are somethings that happen in your life that you carry with you forever. In some ways, there is no getting over it, it simply changes you, right down to your DNA. That was my experience anyway, when my husband died after 8 years of being together. It was a horrible, horrible, time in my life and yet it made me who I am right now. I feel that I changed physiologically, I was never the same, but I’m still me.
I like that you have a ‘mix tape’ on your blog :)
I like that you have a ‘mix tape’ on your blog :)
Susannah, I often drop by your blog because I love your beautiful photography and wonderful way with words. However, I don’t think I’ve ever left a comment before.
After such an intimate sharing, it felt so rude not to respond. I have no words of wisdom – you don’t need them, but I need to add to the voices that tell you you’re inspiring ;-)
hey sweetie…. hugs.
Susannah,
just a note to say ~ i have received your words, these words. and, in this moment, i am sending you love to wrap around your shoulders.
xo,
gem
Nice post i like your words it is your inner feeling coming out you used to love someone and dearly missing him now.I can just console you and do nothing else for you…
It’s all part of the journey. It’s all happening just he way it should. You’re so brave.
This post is rather ironically timed for me. Tomorrow will be the 23rd anniversary of the day I met my 2nd love. It is also my cousin’s birthday. I wonder if he still remembers that fateful day? But since I haven’t heard from him, I think not. I wouldn’t want to hear from him now and have him complicate the life I have now. I am not sure my rose tinted glasses ever came off. If they had, I’d probably feel as you do now. I don’t think we ever forget. We pour ourselves into other things that make us feel complete until life happens again.
I loved that. What an amazing post. Thank you for sharing.
I love this.
oh lady. sending all manor of hugs and wholesome thoughts your way. xo