I keep seeing you. I don’t try to look for you, but everywhere I go, you’re there. We were walking through the park today, and there was a man sitting on a park bench, facing away from us.
My eyes welled up with tears, as I stopped behind him to look at his hair and the edge of his glasses. He had your hair. I remember when I brushed your hair. It was such a mess, from you laying in that bed for so long. You wouldn’t have liked people to see you that way.
There was a picture of a man on a train. He looked like you, so I saved it.
I miss you.
When I went to tell you ‘goodbye’, you tried so hard to turn your head to look at me. You couldn’t open your eyes, but you knew I was there. I know you did.
I’m sorry.
There are so many things I should have said in those final days, but didn’t.
It’s not fair.
I don’t understand. You weren’t ready. We weren’t ready. It was so sudden. You were stolen from us.
I’m a researcher. That’s what I do. I need to stop. I research late at night. Things about you. Your illness and why things happened the way they did; as quickly as they did. I think I want someone to blame. But, there’s no one. After hours of trying to make sense of it all, all I’m ever left with is tears and sadness.
Death comes to everyone. I understand that, but you were so young. We still had so many memories to make together as a family. You’re missing out on so much. It’s not fair.
I miss you.
Without warning, in two weeks time, Leukemia (AML) took the life of my stepfather of 23 years. It was sudden. It was terribly unfair. I miss him.
Like a champagne bottle, when you shake it, the fluid has got to come out. That’s me. I’ve been shaken.
But, don’t fret! Come back tomorrow for a yay, let the summer games begin, post!
Until then, I’ll end this was something I never could have said a year ago.
If you’ve lost a loved one, I may not fully understand your pain, because everyone feels it differently. But, I do understand the emotional toll it can take on those left behind. So whether it was recent or decades ago, I am truly sorry for your loss.
Me - Who am I? 
Im so sorry for loss, and thank you I lost my daughter in 2008.
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Thank you, and I am so sorry for yours. I cannot imagine losing a child.
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I am sorry for your loss. I do hope writing this (allowing champagne bubbles to surface) has given you a bit of a release, at least briefly. The suddenness is so difficult because of the things we feel are left unsaid.
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Thank you, Sammy. I actually flt much better soon after I typed this. It’s amazing how cathartic writing can be. All deaths are terrible, but sudden ones leave no time to prepare our hearts, our words or to finalize our conversations with them.
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Seeing our loved ones and feeling the wave of loss is part of grieving. No need to rush through and put on a happy summer “yah” blog face. Let yourself be with what is happening within you. Accepting where you are is part of the healing.
My heart goes out to you and your family.
Val
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Thank you, Val. This is a very sweet comment. You’re right, I shouldn’t feel as though I must rush it. The feelings come and go and having them is perfectly okay. Thank you again.
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I am so sorry for your loss- all loss is so hard, but when it comes quickly we have so little time to “wrap our heads around it” Grief lasts a long time I have learned, and stays within us, there to show up when we least expect it. Long ago I stopped listening to people saying time heals, you need to get over it. I believe we never truly get over it, and time may make it easier, but it does not change that the person we loved is no longer here.
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Thank you. It sure is. The suddenness makes death so hard to grasp. I agree with you about never truly getting over it, and I used to be one of those people that made the comment that you mentioned. That was before I experienced it for myself. It has gotten easier, but some moments it comes in and hits me full force, as if it just happened yesterday. But, I felt much better after finishing this post. It certainly helped to get it out.
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It does help to get it out. I have blogged many times about a friend I helped care for while he was dying. I had known him since we were teenagers. It has been almost 2 years and I still find myself crying at times, or just really sad. I have learned to just let it be what it is.
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I think I recall reading a post about him. It is so wonderful that you were there for him. I suppose if anything good can come from all those tears, it would be that they remain a part of us, and that we carry them with us always.
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yes, quite right. ❤
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I have lost two brothers to AML (one as a result of a virus picked up whilst his resistance was low). I see my baby brother around the place. I feel him. I know he is there.
You’re not silly in the things you do. I have a magazine advertisement that I kept because the woman in it reminded me of my grandmother. You do what you need to do to grieve.
I am truly sorry for your loss and found your tribute to your step father incredibly moving. Bless you dear.
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Sue, two brothers? That’s terrible. I am so sorry. It is nice to know that I’m not the only one who saves pictures of random look-a-likes. I had to save it. The resemblance is uncanny. Thank you so much for your kind words and your condolences. I send my condolences to you as well.
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You are beautiful. You and your kindness and thoughtfulness. Thank you for the sympathy. And my condolences to you on the loss of someone who was important to you. My father died fifteen years ago. Unexpectedly. No warning. No way to say goodbye. Nothing. It still stings. So I thank you for your kindness in knowing that would still hurt.
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Thank you. You are so sweet. I’m so sorry to hear about your father. When a loved one is suddenly taken from us, it is extremely hard to mentally grasp. It’s so surreal and it doesn’t feel natural. The pain of losing a loved one is not something that ever leaves us. It may get easier over time, but the pain is still there.
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Big hugs to you and everyone else who has lost close family, friends and even animals. I know how hard it is and my thoughts are with you.
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Thank you Irene. Yes, any and every loss is difficult.
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I send a warm embrace, hugs are healing. I hold you in my heart.
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Thank you very much. You are so kind.
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Hugs coming your way. Grief walks with us every day. I think of the young warrior we lost last year, and miss him everywhere I look. My own dad died on motor neurone disease in his fifties. It is so sad when a life is over years too early. Sorry for your loss.
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Thank you, Tric. I thought of that young warrior as I wrote this, and you’re right – grief is with us every day. Some days more, some days less, but it’s always there. I’m sorry to hear about your father. He was very young, way too young to go. My stepfather was 58, so I understand.
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Nice to know you thought of young Dan. Thank you.
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I love you, my precious girl and I am so sorry. I would gladly add your heartache to mine and take away your pain…if only I could.
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I love you too, and I wish no more pain on you than you already have. If I could, I’d take yours and add it to mine.
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I know you would, honey. And I wish the same for you.
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What a beautiful post – you and I have already expressed our condolences to each other – but it does take a toll on those left behind – so I’m sending you good energy and hugs as you make it through each day!
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We have, and thank you very much. Same to you. 🙂
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I just stumbled over your beautiful post. I lost my brother to leukaemia 7 years ago, and these things still happen. I see him, sometimes as a child, sometimes as the live-loving young man he was. And I think it’s good – they will never be forgotten!
Lunatique
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I am so sorry to hear about your loss. All of these comments about lives taken by Leukemia is so saddening. What a wicked disease. I agree with you wholeheartedly about the ability to see our loved ones. Because of those many memories, we will never forget them. They are a part of us, of our every day; a part of our future. They go with us and that is a beautiful thing.
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I understand your emotional toll as well.
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April, I know you do. You know it all too well. 😦
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I feel your loss. I lost my mum to leukaemia four years ago. The pain lessens eventually. The raw edge smoothed and healed.Hugs.x
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Thank you. I am so sorry to you, for the loss of your mother. Four years ago, is not much time. It is good to know though, that although the pain will not go away, it will lesson over time. Thank you again, very much.
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