thank you so much for this. i lost my husband john a year ago to brain cancer. i am 39 with one child. it feels like there isn't any future. your writing helps me imagine.
Very moving read. 4 years on I still turn round to talk to him and he’s not there. However, I know he is there up on his cloud, incredulous at the state of U.K. governance. I was a 24/7 carer to a paralysed husband for 6 years, so I suppose my grief started whilst he was still with me. Sometimes he understood and sometimes he didn’t, but we still managed so many laughs. I’m still nagging, & cleaning up after him. This week it was birds mess off the gravestone - “a bit like bedpans really love”. 😘 I am also still sorting through the mega library. If I had realised how much money had gone on books, CDs and going to rugby matches, I might have traded you in mate! Usually I smile, but the something comes on Classic FM and I dissolve. Never forgotten. In fact, unforgettable. ❤️
The end of John’s suffering eased my pain in his passing. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish. I still turn to share with his empty chair. Many of those things he left in our home remain. Not sure why but removing them is a step so final I start sorting and am blindsided by memories treasured under happier times. Eventually…..
What a lovely story and I’m so sorry for your losses. My three year old son William died in 1991 from leukemia. Some days it feels like it happened yesterday. The whole notion that we “just get over” theses losses is absurd. We never forget our precious loved ones.
TY Lindsay Nicholson! Lovely! July is my dark month. 7/27 (18 years ago) marks when my partner in life TPK flew over the rainbow (53 years young & full of life). 7/28 (29 years ago) my closest sibling surrendered her cancer battle. How I wish there was a quota but as your share illustrates (so sorry about your young daughter), such is not the case. True love never dies... this we know for sure.
my husband Ian died aged 35 of a heart attack - there was no time to say goodbye We loved each other so much and every day I think of him and talk to his wonderful daughter and 2 grandchildren about him He did leave a great legacy of music in this town 26 years is nothing…..
Also there are loves that didn’t die but were carelessly lost only to be mourned over constantly with the knowledge that they are still living and breathing.
Beautiful piece of writing. Unimaginable to lose both. I lost my mum in 1993, never forgotten for one minute. I had two tiny children, a failing marriage and no other source of support from anyone. Good to be reading your work here.
No, we do not forget and never will. This is beautiful.
The month after my husband died of cancer, I wrote my fitness column about exercising through grief. Of course, I truly had no understanding at the time of how grief plays out over the long term, and so I used the cliche “they say time heals all.“ I know now that someone who was not grieving the loss of a loved one came up with that ridiculous platitude. What I have learned over 8 1/2 years is that time heals nothing, it just makes the pain more manageable as it takes us further away from the event that started at all.
I look forward to reading more of your work, Lindsay.
Wow!!!! So beautiful. So beautifully written! Thank you for sharing this. My husband died 7 years ago from cancer at 43. I write him letters all the time - what he’s missing, what I want him to know - including that we have mice and I’d rather he deal with them! 30 years is a minute and a lifetime and so many meals. Thank you! Xoxo Katie
Thank you and bless you for so graciously and kindly guiding we who deeply mourn, without artifice or pathos or self-conscious display. The sounds of our dropping tears accompany our sighs of regret, and you softly remind us of the never-to-end love we have and will ever have for the other half of our very soul.
This is my second time of loss of my beloved that has befallen me, for He Who brings soothing comfort to our aching soul had after five years seen fit to add again, a wonderous someone to love against all odds of that ever happening. Unwary of the now-evident chances for loss and pain and tears, I leapt towards the glow of returned softly, gently loving again, and laughing again together with a newly-found source of hope.
But with a shocking and numbing suddenness, beyond all logic and reason, against all entreaties and sobbing and trustful prayer, it has happened yet once again. Suddenly this time, yet once again, without any time to build strength to survive and cope, without any family or friends it seems. Just tears . Again she whom I loved is gone, but now I am more alone and more old and worn and bereft of hope or comforting or strength to stand straight again.
So I turn to speak to her in the corners of my eyes at the edges of the familiar furniture that she ever will share with me in my few remaining years. And sob within and beg for His soft comfort-again.
Will I find hopeful peace and can I continue-yet once again? How may that be? Who will help soften the pain in my darkening solitude?
Yet your words , generously shared and those of your responding readers have helped return of a bit of equanimity to my crying soul. That too, is a blessing. With love to all of you.
thank you so much for this. i lost my husband john a year ago to brain cancer. i am 39 with one child. it feels like there isn't any future. your writing helps me imagine.
Very moving read. 4 years on I still turn round to talk to him and he’s not there. However, I know he is there up on his cloud, incredulous at the state of U.K. governance. I was a 24/7 carer to a paralysed husband for 6 years, so I suppose my grief started whilst he was still with me. Sometimes he understood and sometimes he didn’t, but we still managed so many laughs. I’m still nagging, & cleaning up after him. This week it was birds mess off the gravestone - “a bit like bedpans really love”. 😘 I am also still sorting through the mega library. If I had realised how much money had gone on books, CDs and going to rugby matches, I might have traded you in mate! Usually I smile, but the something comes on Classic FM and I dissolve. Never forgotten. In fact, unforgettable. ❤️
The end of John’s suffering eased my pain in his passing. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish. I still turn to share with his empty chair. Many of those things he left in our home remain. Not sure why but removing them is a step so final I start sorting and am blindsided by memories treasured under happier times. Eventually…..
What a lovely story and I’m so sorry for your losses. My three year old son William died in 1991 from leukemia. Some days it feels like it happened yesterday. The whole notion that we “just get over” theses losses is absurd. We never forget our precious loved ones.
TY Lindsay Nicholson! Lovely! July is my dark month. 7/27 (18 years ago) marks when my partner in life TPK flew over the rainbow (53 years young & full of life). 7/28 (29 years ago) my closest sibling surrendered her cancer battle. How I wish there was a quota but as your share illustrates (so sorry about your young daughter), such is not the case. True love never dies... this we know for sure.
my husband Ian died aged 35 of a heart attack - there was no time to say goodbye We loved each other so much and every day I think of him and talk to his wonderful daughter and 2 grandchildren about him He did leave a great legacy of music in this town 26 years is nothing…..
23 years. All true.
Also there are loves that didn’t die but were carelessly lost only to be mourned over constantly with the knowledge that they are still living and breathing.
I’m not sure what I’ve just subscribed to but anything to do with eating then and now and especially losing loved ones I’m in x
Thank you Blake 🙏
Beautiful piece of writing. Unimaginable to lose both. I lost my mum in 1993, never forgotten for one minute. I had two tiny children, a failing marriage and no other source of support from anyone. Good to be reading your work here.
No, we do not forget and never will. This is beautiful.
The month after my husband died of cancer, I wrote my fitness column about exercising through grief. Of course, I truly had no understanding at the time of how grief plays out over the long term, and so I used the cliche “they say time heals all.“ I know now that someone who was not grieving the loss of a loved one came up with that ridiculous platitude. What I have learned over 8 1/2 years is that time heals nothing, it just makes the pain more manageable as it takes us further away from the event that started at all.
I look forward to reading more of your work, Lindsay.
This is so beautiful. The last line wraps the essence of love so beautifully
Wow!!!! So beautiful. So beautifully written! Thank you for sharing this. My husband died 7 years ago from cancer at 43. I write him letters all the time - what he’s missing, what I want him to know - including that we have mice and I’d rather he deal with them! 30 years is a minute and a lifetime and so many meals. Thank you! Xoxo Katie
Thank you and bless you for so graciously and kindly guiding we who deeply mourn, without artifice or pathos or self-conscious display. The sounds of our dropping tears accompany our sighs of regret, and you softly remind us of the never-to-end love we have and will ever have for the other half of our very soul.
This is my second time of loss of my beloved that has befallen me, for He Who brings soothing comfort to our aching soul had after five years seen fit to add again, a wonderous someone to love against all odds of that ever happening. Unwary of the now-evident chances for loss and pain and tears, I leapt towards the glow of returned softly, gently loving again, and laughing again together with a newly-found source of hope.
But with a shocking and numbing suddenness, beyond all logic and reason, against all entreaties and sobbing and trustful prayer, it has happened yet once again. Suddenly this time, yet once again, without any time to build strength to survive and cope, without any family or friends it seems. Just tears . Again she whom I loved is gone, but now I am more alone and more old and worn and bereft of hope or comforting or strength to stand straight again.
So I turn to speak to her in the corners of my eyes at the edges of the familiar furniture that she ever will share with me in my few remaining years. And sob within and beg for His soft comfort-again.
Will I find hopeful peace and can I continue-yet once again? How may that be? Who will help soften the pain in my darkening solitude?
Yet your words , generously shared and those of your responding readers have helped return of a bit of equanimity to my crying soul. That too, is a blessing. With love to all of you.
He was very handsome. You never remarried. I am sorry for your profound losses. Your husband was a blessings and a gift.