“I wish you would come back.” I say that to myself whispering it under my breath more times a day than I can count. I say it as if somehow the words might breathe you back to life again.
My mind knows better. It knows that you in your truest sense never really left but the missing of your physical presence is difficult to accept. Learning how to reach for you, to find solace in the space which divides us is by far the biggest challenge of your physically not being here.
One’s psyche immediately moves back in time to moments and memories of when you were here trying to capture every piece of your essence. At the same time, it tries to quiet itself to find the spirit which now exists and never left at all.
I hear you my boy, but I still wish that you would come back. I will probably whisper it to you forever.
The above was written early on after the loss of Brian. I was reminded of it this week when speaking to a family member about my brother who left us just under two years ago. He said that he kept waiting for him to stick his head around the corner and say, “just kidding.” That it was all a bad joke.
Coping with the physical aspect of loss is by far the most difficult challenge. It never goes away. There simply is no replacing it. It’s been my experience, that the only way to begin to deal with it is to continue the relationship. Never stop talking to them. Never “accept” that they are not here for they are, and that they will let you know. It will be different, it will not always be on queue, but it was always be filled with love. That, you get to keep.
This resonates with me. After we got the knock on the door and the news that he was never coming home, I immediately went to his bedroom and covered myself in his duvet. I needed to breathe in his essence to keep my 20-year-old son just a little bit longer with me until…
I’m so glad you posted in HPH which brought me to your blog. Light and Love
I am glad that you found your way here too and so sorry at the same time. I completely understand what you say as well. I still do the same sometimes with a blanket that belonged to Brian, trying to find some physical part of him. He was 20 as well when he left. Thank you for the light and the love. Sending it back your way.