Longer term loss

Thank you downtoearth. We had Evelyn's ashes interred and her headstone includes the inscription 'Love you forever' from the book of the same name - a family favourite.

Over the years I have gone to Evie's grave less and less. I feel she is 'not there' and apart from keeping it tidy, I am more inclined to keep flowers at home.

However, I always have the sense of a place to go. It must be so difficult not to have that. Hugs ((( )))

I've already posted, so forgive me, but I just want to say, what wonderful poems, so poignant and very moving. My beloved cousin died of melanoma eleven years ago aged 53 ten years younger than me, and it was just horrible. His parents were completely shell shocked, he was, as they say, their beautiful boy. His father is now dead and his mother 91 and mourns him everyday. I have tears in my eyes writing this. It's sometimes so difficult to make sense of a loved ones death.

nigglynellie how sad for your family. No parent expects to outlive their child, but I am learning through the years that we keep them very close in our hearts. We inevitably think of what might / should have been as we come across significant anniversaries and landmark events and it must be particularly poignant for you aunt to be without her son in her later years. I have been so sad that my DD is not here to be 'auntie' to my little GS. Sending (((hugs))) and

Thank you for your very kind words, and hugs for you too,imperfect27. I'm sure all these threads are really helpful to every one who has experienced deep sorrow. As someone said, you never get over the death of someone you deeply love, you just learn to live with it. I've found that grief has a habit of jumping out and smacking you when least expected. I've coped by being quite severe with grief and very firmly putting it back in its box. This works (sometimes!)for me, but I know not for everyone.

I know what you mean nn. I have sometimes resented the very real physical, as well as emotional impact of grieving and felt from the outset that I mustn't let it defeat me or define me, but we all grieve differently and how we cope depends on a variety of factors, including the support we receive and other demands upon us. I was able to go gently at first, which was very helpful to me, but within a year I had completely thrown myself into a full-on new career, training to be a teacher whilst still a single parent to three other grieving 'children'.

Looking back, I don't feel I had the time or the energy to grieve very much, but I think the work of grieving does need to happen. My daughter died on an August bank holiday weekend so I have always been on holiday at the time of her anniversary and for the first few years it really hit me hard each time - the greyness descending almost as soon as I singed off from work in July - possibly because I didn't have much time to reflect during the rest of the year. That is getting better nine years on ... the bleak days are fewer and more confined to the week or so before the anniversary, - but not a 'choice' on my part. I just feel like I have been run over by a truck for a few days every year.

I think grief does need to be managed, not given in to, but it is not something we can control, so much as endure and try to move through in positive ways. Not everyone has the emotional strength or support to do that - I feel I have been very fortunate to make a good life beyond losing my daughter. I didn't expect to, but I know she would be pleased for me. xx

When my parents died a poem of the two rats (they weren't!) constantly went through my head. It goes like this.

He was a rat, and she was a rat,
and down in a hole they did dwell,
They were both as black as a witches cat,
and they loved each other well.

First he ventured out, then she ventured out,
and I watched them go with pain,
For where they went, I never could tell,
For they never came back again.

This never fails to bring tears.

I still catch myself thinking ' I'll phone mum and ask her ...' Being an orphan at any age is still rubbishy! *nigglynellie xx

I think poems and songs quickly take us to very special memories - I think of my dad whenever I hear 'come on Eileen' - try to overlook the lyrics - this was the music to a 'last dance' I had with my dad. For my mum, anything by Nat King Cole. And for my daughter 'Don't Stop Me Now' by Queen - any of these played unexpectedly on the radio will easily bring tears and smiles too.

There's a song in Les Mis that was a favourite until my son died. Now I can't bear to hear it because it has the line 'bring him home' and whenever I hear it I imagine my son being brought back from London to Buckinghamshire by the funeral directors. Of course it reduces me to tears. There are so many musical associations connected to my son that I couldn't put the radio on for years afterwards. Now I listen to Classic FM for safety. No connections there! Lol!