Monday, 2 January 2017

Becoming invisible -Journaling grief 3

Well, in the end I even went out to a friend's to "celebrate" New Year's Eve. It was nice to see some of our old friends again - even to me they feel a lot more like our friends than my friends... I left at ten thirty with the perfect excuse that I had promised to let our neighbour's dog out for a toilet break hugely relieved to be missing all the happy New Years, fireworks and Auld Lang Syne. Cuddling the neighbour's dog was the best bit of my New Year's Eve; one thing about bereavement is the sudden lack of physical contact. Having said that I dislike even fairly close friends hugging on me or violating my personal space but with dogs I am just fine with it, plus they just sympathetically lick tears away- dear reader, if  even close friends were to attempt this I would rapidly ask them to desist:)
I thought I would feel better having got to the end of the official festive season but I woke up on New Year's day feeling incredibly low. The day before someone had said I must be longing to put 2016 behind me but it isn't as simple as that. 2016 admittedly won't rank as a great year but at least I had my husband for nine months of it whereas I face the whole of 2017 without. There is also that grief at the inexorable march of time, the New Year highlights that the person you loved is already becoming part of the past, being forgotten by others, if not by you yourself.
The final thing I found difficult was that Kev's brother and sister-in-law did not phone either on Christmas or New Year's Day. I wasn't too surprised at Christmas but they always phoned at New Year.  It is difficult to fathom the message behind a silent phone- it could be that they too have forgotten (unlikely as I just can't believe his brother hasn't thought about him this Christmas) ; it could be that they just don't think they have any connection to me now (quite possible), or it might be that they didn't know how they could phone me without saying Happy Christmas or Happy New Year- both a bit incongruous in the circumstances- and so they did nothing.
I think I need a dog. To a dog you are never invisible and, though supposedly dumb animals,they make their message crystal clear.