The other day I was hanging some wet washing up to dry and I had an enormous wave of grief and sadness wash over me, because of a pair of pyjamas. They’re leopard print and they have pockets and they were one of my Christmas gifts the last Christmas before my Dad died. I had a flash back to putting them on, as soon as I opened them, over my clothes. I put on pretty much all the other clothes Dad and his wife bought me as well, including a pair of leopard print tights on my head. My Dad was laughing, his eyes crinkling up until you couldn’t see them anymore, and telling me I was a nutter. We all knew that Christmas was going to be his last, even though we didn’t say it. He knew it too – he really went overboard and spoilt us all.

I read an article recently that really resonated with me. You can read it here. It talks about life carrying on, and changing in ways that mean a person you’ve lost wouldn’t recognise things anymore. When we moved house I got really upset that my Dad wouldn’t know where we lived anymore, if in some way he could ever come back (I’m actually welling up typing this, the thought still gets me). When I changed my car it occurred to me that he wouldn’t know it was me if he saw me driving down the street. I still have his phone number in my mobile, and cant being myself to delete it, just in case he managed to get in touch. All daft thoughts, I know. (Also, can you imagine how freaked out I’d be if my phone rang and “Dad” popped up?!)

I can’t imagine how that grief must be magnified if you lose a partner.

We went to Dubrovnik last week, me and the husband and Dad’s wife. And we talked about Dad, as we often do. We knew he’d be happy that the 3 of us are so close and that Julie (Dad’s wife) travels with us. But there’s that ever present reminder that the 3 of us are together because Dad isn’t here anymore.

Grief can hit you at any time, unexpectedly, it can take the shine off your day; zap your mood from hero to zero in an instant.

But it can also bring back happy memories, reminding you to think of the good times.

Almost 2 years on and I’m still learning that, actually, grief is a law unto itself. It doesn’t go away. It just changes over time.

Thanks, as always, for reading. x

7 Comments on The strangest things can make you feel sad

  1. I have very similar thoughts. It will be 8 years since my Mom died and I still want to call her to tell her about things. What would she think about my big move abroad? Wouldn’t she love to hear about all of the things her grand daughters have accomplished?
    You are right, it doesn’t go away, but it does change with time.

  2. I really felt for you as I read this. It definitely hits you when you least expect it. When I was away a tiny bird would steal my marmalade at breakfast each day and I missed my nan as she loved these tiny birds and marmalade. I half thought she had come back in bird form. Sounds silly x

  3. I can totally imagine why grief can smack you in the face without warning. I was ironing my husbands shirts the other day and I grabbed a hanger, it belonged to my grandma and she’d written on the hanger saying what was hung on it and the size! It made me feel really sad, but also I remembered how mad she was so it was nice to picture her in that moment. I think grief never really goes away.

    http://www.estellosaurus.co.uk

    • Aw (and yay you for ironing your husband’s shirt, in our house it’s every man for himself on the ironing front!)

      You’re right that it doesn’t go away. It just changes. Sometimes a memory can make you feel happy, and that’s the good bit, I have plenty of those times; they outweigh the sad feelings more and more as time goes on.

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