Friday, February 05, 2010

fear of losing more


Also posted on Widow's Voice



Jeff's gone. I know that. The kids know that. But he is still such an enormous part of every day, every moment, every breath.
He is thought of constantly. Cherished. Missed.
We talk about him multiple times everyday. To feel close to him. To ensure that my children who were so young when their daddy died, exercise those memories so that they are not lost. So that they can remember who their daddy really was....to them.
But I worry about forgetting. In the days after Jeff died, I made pages of 'Jeff'. This list contained everything from his righthandedness, to his favourite beer, to what he wanted to name our babies. These items were concrete. Firm. Easy to sum up.

How do I write lists including the joy with which he would dance or sing, the way his breath on the back of my neck would comfort me or how he made me feel when he held my hand? These things are sensed. Felt.
I wish that they would know the smell of their father. I always told him that he smelled of wood. Or that they could see the ease with which he shovelled ice on the boat.
I am afraid that they will lose him again....or more, if I don't cling to these memories and relive them over and over.
I want them to know him. I want them to remember his love and devotion to them. I want them to feel his strength, joy and kindness within themselves...because he was a truly great man. And he would be so proud of them. As I was of him.

5 comments:

Hallie said...

I think the human spirit is a fascinating thing...thru the love and loss that my grandpa still feels to this day about the loss of his brother in WWII, I feel as if I very much knew my Uncle Buddy. My grandpa has talked about him and relived so many memories thru the years that sometimes I forget that Uncle Buddy was gone over 30 years before I was even born! Through your greif and the joy you share with your kids, you will most certainly keep Jeff alive for them...

Pamela said...

I lost my biological father before I was born and my step-father fifteen years ago. As long as you continue to talk about Jeff and keep him in sight, whether that be through photos and/or stories, his spirit will continue to thrive in your home and in your heart, and in your children...

Suddenwidow said...

This is something that I struggle with every day and I appreciate you writing about it. In the beginning, I wondered that as time moved on would we talk about him less. So far, nope. And knowing you're a year ahead of me and you still talk about Jeff so much gives me comfort. And reading the comments above prove how important it is to never stop talking and remembering. I want our grandchildren to know how wonderful their Grandpa was and how much he would have loved them. And so they will! I was planning to start writing my "Austin" story when I'm on my grief vacation and now you've inspired me to definitely get working on it. Thank you.

See you in a week!

Andrea said...

Dear Jackie,
I'm not sure why I'm finding the confidence to send a comment after reading this post... I've been reading your blog since before your beloved husband died, and remember the shock of checking in and reading your post of his passing. I've been reading faithfully ever since, sobbing at times, sending prayers, but afraid to comment knowing how inadequate my words would be in the face of your reality. I want you to know that you have been in my heart, that a complete stranger, far away in Indiana, continually sends her love out into the ether, and in return receives the gift of your inspiring strength.

Love to you and to your dear children...

13mimosa said...

I'm sure you have access to something similar in Canada, but you should print the years of your blog off in book form like this one does http://www.blurb.com/create/book/blogbook I think the posts you make about Jeff are so exocative - I am sorry I never met your husband for you describe as the most wonderful of men. I think if you let your children share the words you have written they will have a sense of who he was in the years to come. It's not the same as a feel, I know, but it's a step to connecting and you always honour him so well.