For you

You used to call from Trops (aka Metro) in Leek and say come out Bean, it's brilliant. I've lost count of the times that you called or texted because you wanted me to be wherever you were. I seldom listened. I wish I had. Then we'd have many more memories. 

Do you remember the fridge in Spain that was covered in insects and held shut with caving rope? Do you remember going to the cafe at The Louvre? Do you remember taking me Ludschurch? And driving to see the little lambs in spring? And driving past all the garish Christmas lights. And standing together watching the Manics play Kevin Carter. And all those nights out in Leek. The timed pub crawls. The late night parties. The time we painted the wall in the dark wearing caving lights so that we could finish in time for my 30th. So many memories but I wish we'd had more. 

I always thought you'd meet Amber and Simon but you never did. I know we hadn't seen each other for many years but you were in my thoughts often. Simon and Amber know your name. They know your ways. They would have loved you. 

You would dance at the front of every rave. The harder the house, the happier you were. You didn't even wear your coat when you were raving. You used to wear it on stage. When you were raving you were free. Full of joy. Full of light. You're free now. Free of pain and struggle. In the arms of your mum Judith. 

I wish we had kept in touch. I hope you know that I wanted to. 

Rest easy Jase. 

I shall always miss you. 

🐦‍⬛🖤💔

Silence

When the news of your passing came through, it rained for days. On this day, the day to mark your passing, any noise feels like an affront. I should not be able to hear dogs barking, the drone of the fan in the bathroom, the distant hum of the motorway, the creak of the house. There should only be silence now. 

🖤🐦‍⬛🪾🥀

Reading you

I read your old messages sometimes, as though I can find you there. As if your essence is in letters. I pause in the spaces in between words. I think about what you were doing when you wrote the message. What you did before and what you went on to do. I think about the day you might have had when the message came in. 

I'm looking for an answer to an unanswerable question. I'm looking for you. I know can't find you now. Not in a tangible form. 

I hope that I can sense you. I hope I remember things that time made me forget. I hope I see you in my dreams. 

🐦‍⬛💔

Moments of serenity

There have been moments of fleeting serenity at points in the last couple of days. I've felt transitory calm and tiny bits of peace. I'm grateful for these moments. I'm giving myself permission to notice these moments and allow them to last as long as they last. 

I found some rose quartz crystal, that I forgot I had. I now carry it around with me most of the time. Last night I had some very heavy moments. These heavy moments tend to come when the house is silent and there are no distractions. Ive found that it helps to clutch my rose quartz tightly and focus on it. This brings a sense of calm. I place my hand on my chest too. I do this wherever I am. I don't even care if I look a little bit crazy.  It helps and that's all that matters. It's quite literally the difference between me doing things or standing still. 

I will keep moving. 

🐦‍⬛❤️‍🩹

Emotionally multitasking

You have to do life, somehow, even when you are grieving. This will of course depend on the loss in question. However, in a very general sense - life stuff keeps happening. 

I'm a mother. This is beautiful, chaotic, intense and often bloody challenging. It is still all these things whilst I'm grieving. Moreso, obviously. Somehow, I have to pull myself up by my bootstraps or, as a gentle nod towards the awesome human that is no longer here, I have to reboot myself. I have to hope that I am sufficiently bug free to avoid some kind giant syntax error. In short, there are things that must be done. The life code I write doesn't have to be stunning but it does have to work. This is difficult in a every-moment-kind-of-way. 

Within all this, there is still this sense that I'm not allowed to grieve. That I simply cannot feel that much. I sense this sometimes in people's reactions. There's an impatience. A lack of understanding. Perhaps there is simply discomfort because each time you acknowledge someone's grief, you have to face your own mortality or consider the possibility that you'll grieve or that you've grieved and the pain is still too near. I get it. I understand. But some people feel big. Some people feel so big that everyday life can seem unsurmountable. Add real, tangible grief into the mix and, well, everything is just too darned heavy. 

People ask me,  how are you and I feel like screaming: I feel the same as before. It hurts. It all hurts. But I don't. I sometimes nod gently towards my feelings or I cover my feelings up to save theirs. I allow myself to be inauthentic. I talk about the weather or shopping or football or any number of utterly pointless topics for their sake. But what of mine? What of my real feelings? Not pretense. Not words to fill in gaps. Reality. I want to shout into the ether: why, why, why. "No one will tell me why". I know they can't but I do want to be allowed to grieve. I do want people to acknowledge that I'm going to wobble. I'm going to be emotionally clumsy. I'm going to cry. I'm allowed to because this is the truth. 

I am doing life stuff. I'm not doing it well but I am doing it. I'm also emotionally multitasking in every moment. I'm holding space for everyone's feelings. I'm feeling their feelings as my own. I'm also feeling my own feelings. This is what empaths do. I know it because I live it. I've always lived it. Pretending to be anything other than I am is just extra effort. Effort that I don't have capacity for. 

So I'll stand, sit and lie down in my truth. I will protect people's feelings where it's necessary but won't avoid their discomfort. There isn't enough of me to do so. 

Xxxx

Forever luminous

Your lovely mum described you once as a light under a bushel. You are a light but you have now emerged from your bushel. 

You will never fade. You are forever luminous. 

As synchronicity would have it, this was our song:

Take me out tonight

Where there's music and there's people

And they're young and alive

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one anymore

Take me out tonight

Because I want to see people

And I want to see life

Driving in your car

Oh, please, don't drop me home

Because it's not my home, it's their home

And I'm welcome no more

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

Take me out tonight

Take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care

And in the darkened underpass

I thought, oh God, my chance has come at last

But then a strange fear gripped me

And I just couldn't ask

Take me out tonight

Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum

Oh, I haven't got one

Oh, oh

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out...

Always forever

We'll always be together

However far it seems

(Love never ends)

We'll always be together

Together in electric dreams