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Nobody Tells You

By Belinda

Nobody tells you that when you lose someone you love, you don't just lose them.

Everything in the complex network of relationship around the space that held the person, shifts. You lose the way the missing person affected the interplay of those relationships too.

Five months since Mum died, and I am just realizing that she was the glue that held some relationships together; the mortar between the bricks; the sun around which our planets circled!

Without her we flounder a little, trying to find our feet on this unfamiliar terrain. So much of our relationship and conversation was about her. 

We need to redefine our relationship now; find new common ground...without her.

What we have in common is tainted by pain, though each differently affected. There must be more.

We will find our way and find one another in a new way. We love each other. We just don't  know quite how to be yet; now that she's gone.


Anonymous said…
Know so much of what you write about. It is amazing the hole those that left us leave behind. Those holes are sometimes just spaces - empty spots, voids - but other times they are small moth eaten holes that tears the fabric of relationships over time (especially under pressure). I've been both astonished and saddened by some the holes that can never be filled in by anything.
Belinda said…
Anonymous, exactly. It makes me realize how important each one of us is to others, even those of us who seem so simple and quietly hidden away, as Mum was, in Alvechurch.
Susan said…
There are things that are common to all of us who have experienced a great loss... things that go unspoken, unshared, perhaps not even identified. They are felt and they are experienced, but no one can draw that particular chart that is needed to guide you through these particular dark and unfamiliar waters..

But you just have. It's a significant part of the course, at least. I've never heard this articulated by anyone else, and yet I've experienced it. Some relationships grow deeper and stronger, others fade. Such is the shimmering fabric of life...

It's comforting and affirming somehow to know I'm not the only one. {{hugs}}
Marilyn said…
So true.

Oh, I'm in danger of thinking about this all day long and never getting to anything else.....but it will be a worthwhile think.

For years, a sibling and I co-labored to insure Mom's safety and care. Then Ma was gone and now what was the link between us? I mean, yes were were still sibs but it takes a while to regain footing, to start again to enjoy some other aspects of the sibling relationship.

It's complicated and yet simple.

Nobody tells you. And now you have told us. A writer's job is so often helping others see what they are experiencing. Wonderful.
Anonymous said…
I read in a grieving book that death, no matter how prepared we are for it, is like someone thrusting their hands into a bucket of water and removing a rock from the bottom. The water churns and swirls and ripples - then slowely settles down to a new level. I liked that picture - it matched the turmoil I was feeling and gave me hope as to the settling.

Yet as time as passed I realized they have forgotten to mention that the level of the water is lower because of the removal of the rock. It may be calm on the surface, but it will never be the same.

I'm sure the next step is to be thankful - thankful that we had the experience of life at the level we did...but it is hard.
Belinda said…
Susan, yes, it must be a common experience. It felt important to articulate it here as part of the process of loss. This shifting of relationship is natural and normal, I see now, but I hadn't thought of or expected it. And you are right, it is comforting to find others who say, "Yes, me too."
Belinda said…
Dear Marilyn, we have so much in common, you and I. Thank you for reading and sharing and writing of your own experiences of history and life. So often in what you write I am deeply moved and take into my life your childhood experience as a learning for others who cross my path here and now. The writing of it all is so important.
Belinda said…
Anonymous, yes, I so get what you wrote about the water being lower. No one vanishes as a rock from water without leaving a hole that is bigger even than themselves, which a hole big enough! Realizing this makes me realize the even greater significance of each precious life.
Flemisa said…
I have just started your walk without my Son. It helps to have your experience and guidance. We all walk it differently and at different speeds but your words are helping to clarify some of the emotions and feelings I have.
Thank God we don't walk it alone.
Anonymous said…
Flemisa, How heartbreaking for a child to die before you. My heart goes out to you.

Thank you for letting me know that you are out there, sharing the journey.

Our pastoral team at work has been sending me books from a really good series of books at intervals, called, "Journeying Through Grief." They are available over the web too, from Stephen Ministries, whose mission is to walk with people through grief.

I will keep you in prayer.
Belinda said…
Flemisa that last comment was me. I don't know how it chose to be anonymous! :)
Flemisa said…
Thank you so very much for your prayers and message.
I have been online and ordered those books and several others. Know I really should find a church community again but hard to make new connections when I am focused so inwardly just now. Have Christian friends and know I have their support.
Belinda said…
Dear Flemisa,
The only "should" in grieving is that there should be no "should"s. :) Grieving consumes vast energy, and if right now, you are inwardly focused, I know that the time will come when you feel ready to open up to the world around you again. There will be a place waiting for you when you are ready.

The books will be a blessing. God bless you and may you feel close to his heart.
Anonymous said…
I am reminded again that so often we "forget" about stories in the newspaper of people who have lost their life. I recently learned of the two brothers who drowned in Toronto a week ago. Turns out I know a close relative of the two. Lord help me to remember that just because the funeral has happened and life seems normal on the outside, indeed their is the grief journey on the inside.
Belinda said…
Yes, Jane, so true. My friend Frances shared in church yesterday that her husband's boss and friend, is the father of the 19 year old man who recently drove the wrong way, impaired, up a highway, and killed the 16 year old girl and her father. His name is Sebastian; a "good boy" from a good family, who made a foolish mistake that has changed many lives forever, including his own.

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