Saving the Cutler crockery

I think at about 6:10 this morning I reached another stage of grief. I woke up feeling livid, furious, and angry. It was after a dream, although I think the dream was a result of a feeling that has risen from the grief, something I thought I had avoided. So I am hoping if I write it down it will let the pressure out of it and prevent me from going into my kitchen and getting every single plate and throwing them against the wall. Think of it as saving my crockery. I actually like it and we need it, so please bear with while I do a little venting.

It has now been 2 and ¾ years and call me naïve, call me blindly optimistic, call me a little bit stupid but I think I have been waiting for something from Ian, What? Yes it’s ridiculous but I have been deep down waiting for him to say something from somewhere.I did not want to believe that death could really be that final,could be so cruel.

I want communication in some way. The normal way would be best. I want him to say “I miss you and I can see you miss me, but well done you are doing OK. I am so sorry I can’t be there to help you when you really need it. I love you all and, girls you are making me really proud.”

You see this is the bugger about death. There is a wall of silence that is so dense and so inpenetrable, but I keep hoping that something will get through it. Ironically it is the time that I need the missing Ian more than ever to get me through, but he is nowhere to be found. I need reassurance and some great advice and a large hug would be brilliant too. Nothing, total silence.

People so kindly say he will always be with you…Maybe in a photo, in a letter, as a memory, but really this is not enough. I want the brain and the body back please.

You see I think, to protect ourselves we want to believe that people live on somehow in our lives or in some other way. Of course they live on in our memories, I can see Ian’s character in my children, but he is not here, HE is not with us. So at this point your intellectual self is saying as you read this that of course dead is no more, of course you can’t communicate with people once they ‘re gone. Is she a little stupid? But here it is. Brains, or at least mine has refused to admit that this is the reality and I bet if you asked most people in my position they would say the same. My brain has been trying to cushion me from the situation. I think anger is when you finally accept that this is not going to change, that this is it,no more.My brain said this morning it is time, you need to know there is nothing more to hear,nothing more you can tell him.In fact it also said I have been trying to tell you for while,but you just weren’t wanting to hear it.

And frankly I am finding this really annoying this morning. I am angry that this is how it is.

This week I have been to two wonderful celebrations and I think that this is the trigger for how I feel today. In both cases they were able to communicate to each other, and all of us listening their love and gratitude. It was so wonderful to hear it, but it pressed my grief button .

So here is my speech to Ian. The one I would have given at my 50th birthday, but never got the chance.

I have been so lucky to meet you. You have made me really happy this last 26 years. We have made three really terrific human beings together.

I really love you with all my heart.

Then I would have told the guests about how I met you and the bucking bronco story.

I am going to put Ian’s response in my head, like a cartoon with a speech bubble because that is all I can do. You see he is gone. He is silent.

I think the crockery is out of danger for now. Going to get up and make a

coffee.Hate coffee in plastic cups ,so I’ll save the mugs.

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