Three weeks on

It is only three weeks since Keith died. It feels like an eternity. People tell me time helps, time heals, but I can't believe that. The more time passes by the further away my husband becomes: I don't want him further away. Time can't heal, it can help deal with the sadness, help build the armour to get from day to day, time can mend, but it can't heal.

Darcey in her six year old mind said to me yesterday "It is going to be a really hard life for us." She means, the pain of missing Daddy is going to be always with us. She sees it.

His ashes came home this week and that did feel wonderful. The girls have their silver keepsake hearts with a sprinkling of ashes sealed inside. You shake it, you hear him. They hold them, kiss them, take them to bed. They talk to them, show them things. They took them to school to show their teachers. It's good, it helps, but it brought with it another layer of rawness, another layer of realisation of never as a reality; the never coming back.

"I want Daddy." 

"I wish he would come back."

I laughed when I carried the tube of ashes back into the house. It is so heavy! I never expected it to be so heavy. It has such weight, such presence, I was laughing to myself, it is so funny. So Keith, to be still so present. It makes me smile.

We drift along with our routine keeping us on the rails. Too much to think about, too much that distracts.  But still many rules broken: more dancing til 9pm, more pizza in front of the TV, more newspapers, coffee and music. I crave space and solitude and sleep, then people and exercise and air. I don't sleep, not really. It is too quiet.

The mind wanders to dangerous places...what would I do to have him back for just a day, an hour? Could this possibly be just a terrible dream? Dangerous places, dark, hard places. There is no hope in those places.

The good things keep coming, the silver linings. Friendships are strengthened, enhanced: more confident, real and honest. Still the words about Keith keep coming, all of them powerful. He was a man of integrity, he had great energy, he brought such substance. Strong words.

We're alright though, really; we're a team, we're Bunkers, we always will be. The now is terrible, but some of it will pass. We carry on because we have to and because we can and because we want to. We will always stand for love and integrity and very good parties. 

But we miss him, very, very, very much.

with love
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