To Love Is To Lose
To live is to love for what is life without passion? But how do we continue to live when those who we love stop living? It seems that in saying that, to love is to lose for life is finite. Thanks to the glory of my youth, I haven't suffered much loss. I haven't borne the heartache of living life without a person who I was inextricably connected with. I find myself associated with an 86 year old gentleman who has wisdom present in his prominent blue veins and life experience stained on the wrinkles which protrude as He smiles. The woman who He describes as being a part of him, tragically died three years ago, forcing him to spend his remaining years of this finite life ridden with grief. I will refer to Him as the Beau of To Love Is To Lose. A woman whom I cherish, though resilient and painfully strong is immensely strangled with the grief of her late mother... a life which was taken too young. I will refer to Her as the Belle of To Love Is To Lose. I confide in these two most trustworthy & sweet-tempered souls to provide insight into the unimaginable anguish of continuing to live when the ones they loved most do not.
Most Grief-Stricken Moment
I assumed that before I inquired about loss, it was important for me to know the foundation of their grief- what it feels like, looks like, tastes like. Beau described his most grief-stricken moment to be the moment his Wife passed. He reflected on the sacredness of their vows. 'Till death do us part was the phrase that left the two lovers' lips 60 years before. Grief overcame him so fiercely for it was the only force strong enough to have parted the pair. At 19, my life seems to have been so long. In 19 years I have experienced, loved, learnt and dreamt. It feels rather incomprehensible to imagine 60 years of life for it must entail such richness and beauty. However, to imagine 60 years of life spent with another person, I cannot think of a more exceptional word to use than the word He used to describe the taste of his warm sticky date pudding & vanilla ice cream eaten over our first encounter: Magic... Accumulating hundreds of thousands of memories, moments and conversations as a bond becomes so tightly woven with intricacies of compassion, care and respect.
The time Belle and her mother spent together was periodical - visits occurring every 2 years or so. Naturally, on the second anniversary of her death, She was anticipating time with her mother. 'I should see mum now. It's time to see mum.' As She mundanely placed gifted flowers from her friends & family into vases, her anticipation was met with reality. Perhaps this equates to Beau's most grief-struck moment. Although 2 years apart, it was the first moment that Beau and Belle knew that the souls of those they loved weren't with them any longer. For me to grasp the notion of Belle's grief, however, I didn't need to hear her most grief-stricken moment...When I asked about her willingness to participate in To Love Is To Lose, haunting melancholia pervaded Her. The creases at the corner of her mouth began to quiver. The space surrounding her body became paralysed by the absence of her mother... evidently an absence much stronger than she.
Tackling Anniversaries
Beau's adamance was moving... Adamant that a life he was and continues to be entirely besotted with invites only celebration. He recalls the year that they planted a beautiful Northfolk pine for her birthday. They named the pine 'life' for the couple believed in the interconnectedness of life and that after death, the spirit remains. He celebrates those spirits. Come anniversaries, their family gather, recalling the sound of her laughter, her personality, the beauty that He says would brighten the darkest of rooms.
Belle's late Mother left Earth in Autumn meaning that after her mother's birthday, it's the anniversary of her death and then followed by Mother's Day - a trilogy of remorseful events. 'Bang. Bang. Bang.' Distraction was never her approach. Rather, She spent the first 4 months of every year anticipating an unpredictable trilogy. Either the grief would cripple her or it wouldn't. Over anniversaries, She endeavours to honour the life of a woman who was 'very loving, very kind...her champion.'
For Beau, after the family & friends have drunk too much and sent their condolences, he likes to be alone with his sweetheart. He explains to me that the feelings others had for her weren't as deep. His eldest daughter recollects how all her mother and father wanted was each other. 'For me, every second of every day she is there. She is a part of me.' Alike, Belle prefers to grieve in solitude purely because of the shadow she feels she casts... a shadow too dark for others to witness and a shadow composed of conundrums. Nobody she knew understood her grief and in turn, their inquisition left her feeling more alone than before. How painful it must feel to carry the burden of death alone simply because others spend more time asking than being. Being with the unexplainable. Being with the suffering. Being with the silence.
Easier & Harder...
In the process of conducting such conversation, the heaviness in my heart became unbearable... how cruel it seemed that grief could exist with such longevity and persistence. But what saddened me most was when Beau's sweet withered eyes looked into mine and told me that no aspect of grief became easier nor harder. I surely thought that with time, the pain would subside but He constantly longs for a half of him who isn't there. Belle confirmed his observations: 'Nothing ever feels happy. Nothing at all. It's no less sharp. Instead of it being 2 years, it's been over 20.' Although, Her response provided a glimpse of hope. Whilst no better equipped to cope, the moments in which She was forced to feel grief became fewer & further between, evocative songs broadcasted less & her handwriting stained on documents She no longer reads. When the following words left Her lips, I could finally grasp why. Why the grief remains. Why nothing feels easier. Why nothing feels harder. 'I miss what I didn't have.' If every day is another day of memories left unmade, places left unseen and milestones left unwitnessed, how could any day seem as blue, as brisk or as beautiful as when they were there to see it too.
Advice
With all that the two shared with me, I thought the most beneficial note to finish on would be one that acknowledged their fortitude but could also encourage such fortitude into the lives of those who are anticipating grief, fearing grief, or who are experiencing grief. So, I asked the question: 'What would be your one piece of advice?' Beau compared the imperfections of life to the bowl of cherries we weren't promised, highlighting that the only way to cope is striving to focus on the memories which are as ripe and as sweet as life allows to exist for it moves the grief aside, even just for a moment. Belle's advice was less coherent, advising others to remove expectations surrounding grief. The emotion is laced with such complexity that she invites others to notice and allow it, not attempt to delay it or prevent it, to have compassion for yourself when what you can't control takes reign. She looks beautiful as the light strikes the saltwater forming in the inner crevices of her eyes creating a shimmer. 'I needed her', She says. Perhaps it was her resemblance to a fallen angel or the fact that her voice incrementally broke from the sadness her words conveyed but Belle's advice became solidified at that moment. For I witnessed the unpredictability of grief, how it usually is grey but suddenly becomes black & how a part of your soul dies when they do.
My gratitude to Beau & Belle for their vulnerability in partaking in this week's COS Blog is ineffable. Prior to my separate conversations with Beau & Belle, I thought I had grasped the severity of grief that had intruded into their lives but to my disturbance, I had only toyed with a notion. I have a newfound appreciation for Beau's & Belle's outlook on life considering they have one that is prosperous, enjoyable and happy. I believe it takes exceptional courage to form a fundamentally positive outlook on a life that is so obviously difficult, hurtful and sorrowful. I feel purified by their honesty and in awe of their ability.
Comments