Sunday, 3 May 2009

Regrets

I’m sorry, Internet. It seems dreadfully self-indulgent of me to still be sad and crying more than a month after she died. The truth is, my honest self-assessment is that I’m coping with her death and how it came about, but in the times when I’m alone, the times when mundane tasks leave my mind free to wander, self-punishingly, back to painful reflections, the grief and bitter regret return.

It is self-indulgent. After all, nothing will bring her back. And, disaffected Catholic though I am, I still believe she has found peace and contentment in a so-called ‘better place’; how could I wish her back in a world in which she suffered more than she could bear?

But the regrets will always be there like scars on my soul.

I should have been flying to her wedding, not her funeral.

6 comments:

steve said...

Hi Lonie, I read you blog but haven't left a comment until today.
Your sadness has affected me as I recently went through the death of my mum.
Its not being self indulgent to excercise your grief, there's no right or wrong way.
Try not to be too hard on yourself, friendship is not measured, it just exists, there's no percentages involved. You were her friend & you honour her with your grief.
Steve

Rita said...

I agree with Steve. Death is so hard to come to terms with and think about. I think it is harder for people who tend (in life generally) to think (or over-think) things, as they try to rationalise it, and put it into some kind of 'box', in order to place it somewhere and move onto whatever next they have to do/think about in their own life.

In fact, it is a way harder thing than that. OK if you are a believer in something (ie religion or an equivalent) but for those who don't, what else to do with those thoughts?

Acceptance of the immovable fact that we all die. Acceptance of the fact that to prove ourselves 'human' we must exhibit signs of various levels of love and caring for fellow humans. With that love and caring comes the ultimate ending - with either your or their death. An immense thought to have to tackle at any time, if we're to be totally honest.

I don't think we ever have that gap that is created when someone we care about dies filled by anyone else. It's there inside us as part of the core of who we are and how we express ourselves or want to live the rest of our lives. You can never get the person back to say things that went unsaid, or do things that maybe you feel you didn't do, or do or say more of the above. That's why, to me, it's important to say or do things that mean a lot to you personally in your dealings with everyone. The old adage of treating each day as if it were your last is the way I live (since my life-threatening cancer diagnosis 17 yrs ago!), and to me, there's no other way to ensure I say or do things which I would like to have been my final exchange with someone/anyone, whether it's me or them that might die tomorrow.

Your friend and you had a friendship which, from your account, was an important part of your life. All we can hope is that she got as much out of it as you did whilst you both were here being friends.
My love and thoughts are with you, albeit online and public.

Lonie Polony said...

Hi Steve, it's nice to hear from you. Thank you for your kind words. I'm sorry you've had to deal with the grief of your mother's death; I hope you can live your life without being overburdened by it.

Thanks for the reply Rita - you are very wise. Thanks also for your kind thoughts. Knowing people are wishing one well and projecting good vibes - albeit online and publicly - makes me feel better. Not sure when I'll feel like getting back to my flippant nonsense, though!

mutleythedog said...

I am thinking of you sweety. I wish I had something clever to say, but I dont. If I met you I would give you a big hug, and its big, I weigh like 18 stone....

Lonie Polony said...

:) Thanks Mutley. I'm feeling better, I promise.

mutleythedog said...

Good!