My beloved husband, Kent, died in January 2012, 3 years after diagnosis of a brain tumour. Our son was 2 1/2 and our daughter 3 months old. He and I were far too young. I am now hurtling through the black space of life without him.

Friday, 10 August 2012

It really just never goes away

When you lurch your way between the bottom of the pit and somewhere around the edge, you are always aware of what it feels like at the bottom. Have I said this already? The problem is that I am always aware that things are always as bad as at the very depths. The worst grief I experience becomes a permanent reality. I may be managing to paddle right now, to keep afloat, but that doesn't make the situation any better, it's just that I'm choosing to paddle. The reality and the pain never go away, just because I am paying them less attention at the moment. Which leads me to the question, is that how you survive this and carry on? By just not thinking about it so much? That seems like a pretty crap solution that has many flaws. I guess I will get back to you on that one.


  1. hi Ang,

    just did a bit of catching up on your writing - I may have to buy a new computor...I'm dripping all over this one....though I know you drip all over yours way more. Kinda stuck for words...I just hope and pray that the tears and ache that I've felt tonight might somehow ease or ever so slightly lighten your tears and your pain...
    Love you - Sandie