..to Barry.
Everyone grieves differently. I know that it is a great comfort to some people to talk to the person they loved as though they were still alive.
I did this for a while, and just occasionally I still do, but for me it wasn't helpful really. I think it stopped me from fully accepting that my husband had died and that I never would speak to him or see him again. It just seemed to me to accentuate the awful pain of that fact, and I knew I needed to say goodbye.
A day or two after the discovery of the poem (see previous post) I saw this in a museum shop and thought Barry would love that. I was in a rush for the bus home from the city but when I woke next morning I knew I had to go back and look at it. It's from Greece, made of crushed marble and very heavy, and painted a brilliant lime green. It fits beautifully in my hand.
Everyone grieves differently. I know that it is a great comfort to some people to talk to the person they loved as though they were still alive.
I did this for a while, and just occasionally I still do, but for me it wasn't helpful really. I think it stopped me from fully accepting that my husband had died and that I never would speak to him or see him again. It just seemed to me to accentuate the awful pain of that fact, and I knew I needed to say goodbye.
A day or two after the discovery of the poem (see previous post) I saw this in a museum shop and thought Barry would love that. I was in a rush for the bus home from the city but when I woke next morning I knew I had to go back and look at it. It's from Greece, made of crushed marble and very heavy, and painted a brilliant lime green. It fits beautifully in my hand.
It's my farewell gift to Barry and sits at his side of the bed.
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