Great Christian Diaries

2003-10-24 - 11.00pm  previous entry  next entry

Third entry today. Phew! Caz thanks so much for the link *hugs* I went to it but didn't take much in to be honest. But I will look again another time. April thanks for your guestbook entry. Thanks for being so supportive :) Alison, thanks for your entry too. I love you but I am not gonna think about what you wrote just yet, I don't need the extra stress right now. I haven't been able to find space in my head for a big subject like that today. Frances, thank you for the email, you are so lovely. *hugs* I will reply soon.

Well I had to update because today has been such a toughie, and I feel different this evening.

After my entry this morning I went to the cemetery. I cried when I got there because I felt a little bit cross with Cameron for leaving. I know that's normal, but it still crushed me up with guilt inside because it wasn't his fault, poor little thing, he couldn't help dying - his body was too sick and weak. Poor love. I feel hateful dumping blame on him on top of that. But I know it's normal so that helps a little. And I know it's only a feeling that will pass, it's only there because I can't make sense of my feelings any other way so I start to lash out to try and make them stick somewhere. I don't know. I guess that's it anyway.

I told him about my dream. Talking to him at his grave was way easier today. More normal-feeling. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I explained all my feelings to him, like I would if he was alive, like I would to a child who didn't understand grief because they'd never experienced it or seen anyone go through it. I think he would have understood by the time I finished, if only he had been alive to hear it. But then I wouldn't be grieving so that's pointless.

Anyway, then I sat on the grass as close to his graveside as I could get with all the flowers there. I sat for an hour at least. I sat really really still. I sat so still for so long that I started to feel invisible. It was quite a nice feeling actually. The most peaceful I've felt there yet. Absolute silence and absolute stillness, I felt like I almost became part of that still, silent place. I felt like time slowwwed down and so did my thoughts, so that my brain went in slow motion and that was such a relief because the speed of all the thoughts and feelings in there has been getting too much for me lately. I was so close to his grave, and so close to the ground. I wanted to lie in there on my side amongst the flowers with my body turned towards the earthy mound. That's a weird urge, but it's one I've felt every single time I've been to the cemetery since Cameron's funeral. The worst pain at the moment seems to be a desperate yearning to be physically close to him. I am longing to feel my arms go round his little frame and to close them on him and feel that he's warm and full of life and movement. I am absolutely craving physical touch with Cameron, but that's something I can never have again. Not here anyway. Which feels pretty much like never to me right now. Anyway I felt some comfort sitting that low and close to his grave, because it was the closest I could physically be without lying down on his grave. So maybe that's why I always want to. I never would of course. That would just be crazy and you can't do that at a cemetery, it's not right. And I don't really want to lie down in the dirt, I just want to be close to Cameron. I realise I have my thoughts all twisted up because my proximity to his coffin isn't going to affect my closeness to him at all. He's not in there. But something of him is, the something that I looked at and hugged every time I saw him, so I guess I'm just clinging to that.

Ooh that was a long paragraph.

Well I wore much more wintery clothes this time, I wore my woolly hat and gloves and scarf, and my big winter coat. But I was STILL freezing cold. The wind is so bitter at the moment, even when the sun is so bright. Yesterday when I went, I told Cam that I was gonna wear winter clothes next time because I got too cold. Today I was all like, "Here I am, see?! I'm wearing the winter clothes!" But I was still soooo cold, so at the end I told him, "NEXT time, I'm wearing a ski-suit!" and that made me smile because it would have made him smile. And then a little voice of irony piped up in the back of my head, which I voiced aloud to Cam: "It'll probably be unseasonably warm that day" and the mental image of me sweltering in a ski suit in the winter months after being so cold in my winter-wear in October suddenly made me laugh out loud right there in the cemetery, because I suddenly knew that if Cameron had really been there listening to me tell him all that, he would have been laughing his head off. I know he would. When he laughed it was always infectious, he always had me cracking up in no time, just because he was laughing at something and finding it funny. So I laughed this time as well. But when my laughter had died down I felt so sad because of how empty laughter is without hearing him chuckling away beside me. The sound of his laugh is gone and that is a BIG loss.

Today I took him another item. I was thinking a week or so ago that people take things to a grave as a tribute to the person who died. Like flowers. Or a little card with loving words in it. I decided if my things were going to be a tribute to him, they would need to represent us, our relationship, and what he meant to me. So I have taken him flowers, to represent the enormous amount of love he gave me. Lots of flowers. And many more to come. Yesterday I took sparkly confetti, which is to represent the laughter and joy he gave me. And today I took a stone. It's the softest smoothest pebble I have ever felt. I found it on a beach years ago. It fits perfectly in the palm of my hand and I find it soothing to hold. It's a pearly grey/white colour. Today I took it to Cameron and laid it amongst the confetti (which is still there) in front of his cross marker under all the flowers. It represents the strength he gave me when I was depressed and only kept going because I had Cameron to look forward to all the time. I could only think of those three main things when I thought what Cameron had given me. He's given me a zillion other wonderful things, but those three are the big ones. Love, joy and strength. Of course I know that God is the one blessing me with those things THROUGH Cameron. But I associate them with Cam all the same, even though I thank God for blessing me through him.

Anyway, I worried that someone might throw the pebble away, so I drew a little heart on it in red biro. Which will wash away of course, but while I was there I decided I would leave it with him for now, and then next time I go I will take it away again, and paint it properly and then varnish it so it will be weatherproof. It's only a small pebble so I don't think it will mess up his family's ideas for his grave if they had wanted something uncluttered.

So that was good. I sang again as I sat by his grave, but this time my head was only filled with worship songs. Not that I felt full of worship at all, but those were the words that fell off my tongue. Beautiful songs came out of me, like "When I survey the wonderous cross" and "All heaven declares". Those songs have always filled me with praise and wonder towards God. It was soothing to sing them to Cameron, to the air, to God, to myself, to wherever I was singing them to. I don't know. But it was comforting.

I left when I got too cold. Nobody else was there today, except one couple who drove to the far end of the cemetery to visit a grave for a few minutes and then drove away again. Nobody disturbed me from my statue-like time. I liked it that way today.

When I got home I got ready for my doctor's appointment and went to that. I was early (wow!) and I met a girl in the waiting room who I used to chat to at the train station when I used to get the train to school in my teens. I haven't seen her since then, but she recognised me straight away. It was so weird, chatting to her! She looks so much older in her face, but still exactly the same somehow. Sometimes I feel old now. She is a police officer. Wow. Saying I was a housewife didn't sound very exciting. She asked if I was planning to work or if I had kids. I didn't want to talk about that so I said I didn't have kids yet and I wanted to be a midwife which I would study later. I told her about my nursing training but didn't tell her why I stopped. I felt like everyone was listening. You know what doctors' waiting rooms are like! You can see the ears flapping from across the room, feel the air quicken as they waft. *sigh* Nobody's got anything better to do than listen in if somebody's having a rare conversation in the waiting room!

Well anyway, it was nice to chat to her again, and she said the same. I saw my doctor and he was really nice. He always is. He was sympathetic about the parsnips. He did the internal which was okay. I trust him so that makes the world of difference. Urgh I don't want to say what he said because it's just that little bit too personal for my online diary (!!), but yes I do have a minor reason for pain, and no it's not serious. He prescribed me oestregon cream (yep, we do spell it with an 'o' in England!) which I have to apply daily, pleurgh. That's annoying but oh well. He said things are not problematic enough for surgery (What?!! That freaked me out!!), and more parsnips is the solution long-term, which obviously is a difficult cycle to break because of the pain, so he said the cream would help. I hope so. But yuck, cream :( What a pain. I have to go back when I run out for a "chat". Hmmm.

Anyway so then I came home. I sat in horrendous traffic. Goodness knows why the traffic was so bad. Maybe it was to do with concorde's last flight? It was around the time that the last 3 landed in close succession this afternoon at Heathrow. I will miss concorde. We see it go over in the summer when the flight path comes right over us. At the secondary school I went to, we were right in the flight path from Heathrow, and pretty near to the airport too. Concorde would go over around 11am every day, and lessons would stop till it had passed because you couldn't hear yourself if you shouted. All the windows and bookshelves rattled, even the chalk on the blackboards! At the first inkling of a whoosh sound, someone would always yell, "Concorde!" and that would be the sign for the teacher to wait till it had passed. Sometimes we watched it out of the window but it was a pretty normal everyday thing so we didn't always. I love concorde. I always loved seeing it that close to us over our heads and I loved hearing it roar so loud we couldn't hear anything else. It was spine-tingling somehow. I'm sad that I was in the doctors for the last time a concorde would be flying past, but I didn't hear it so I guess the flight path wouldn't have brought it that close to us anyway. Neil said they watched the concordes at work today - they went out on the roof. I wish I had seen it too.

When I got home I felt so unhappy. I searched the web for something I know-not-what, and in the end I decided I would phone Judith, even with her friend staying there. I would just ask her to pray for me as I was feeling low, and that way she could pray for me when it's a good time for her, and I could feel comforted knowing that someone knew I was hurting and was praying for me, and maybe some relief at being able to actually speak to someone and tell them how I felt, even briefly.

So I phoned Judith. I felt nervous and that made me shaky. I asked her how Pilates went. She said it's a good thing I didn't go because they were doing lots of pelvic-based exercises today and that probably would have aggravated my hip. She asked me if I had a good day. I said no. I told her I was feeling so low and that I was finding it hard to deal with Cameron's death today. I said I felt lonely. She said she would go to the phone upstairs and pray for me over the phone. I was shaking like crazy waiting for her to get to the other phone. I don't know why. Maybe it's that I don't like getting vulnerable with people that I've never done that with before? It's scary and a big hurdle. Much easier when I'm removed from them in some way - like on the phone, but that's still quite hard because it's still "in person", in a way. Online is by far the easiest, along with letter-writing. I can be as emotionally vulnerable as I like then. I find it way harder on the phone, and next to impossible face-to-face with anyone. I've had 13 years of counselling in various forms and never once shed a tear during any of it, no matter how emotionally painful it was, because even in a "safe place" with counsellors I have a problem crying in front of anyone. Even friends. Even Neil and my family, although if something upsets me badly it happens occasionally. But since I've been a Christian I notice that sometimes I am able to cry in front of a whole room full of people if God pokes me on the emotion button. Then I know it's his Spirit doing it, because when I try to put up defense against the tears, there's nothing I can do about it. My walls are pretty strong otherwise. God doesn't bring me to tears with others very often, only a few times so far. But it's always a very healing experience when he does.

Gosh I'm blethering aren't I? Anyway, so I was nervous suddenly, about lowering my walls more than I ever had before with Judith. She came on the upstairs phone and started to pray aloud. I listened and I tried to relax and focus on God and be still before him, but it was hard. I was shaking so that the receiver was rattling my ear! That was distracting. And I didn't want Judith to hear me being shaky in my breathing so I was trying to control that. Urgh. I'm such a silly. But it was so so so lovely to be prayed for. To hear Judith asking God to help me when I felt past getting the words out in prayer myself. Some of what she prayed was really hard to hear. She asked God to gently loosen the ties between me and Cameron, and help me to let him go. I know she's praying the right thing, but I was yelling at God in my head, "NO! NO! NO!" to counter everything she prayed that I couldn't bear to have answered. I do not want to let him go, no matter if that's the wrong thing to do.

I cried a lot while she prayed but kept quiet. My heart felt like breaking in two. All I could think of was that I'd left my little boy in the cemetery in a box, an unbearable thought at that moment, and she was praying that I'd move on and let him go. That hurt so much it was hard to breathe. She prayed for a long time. I don't know how long, maybe 15 minutes or so, and I just sat and cried and listened and sometimes reached out for God in my mind and sometimes pushed him away in the next moment. Neil came home halfway through, which annoyed me hugely, because it felt like he was invading my pain and my space. Poor guy, he was just coming home from work, but I was expecting him home later than that so I felt intruded upon. Yuck. It's his own home. But he was so good. It was dark outside by then and I was sitting on the floor with no lights on and the curtains open, and he took one look at the dark room and me crying on the phone and not speaking and knew someone was praying for me, so he took himself upstairs and took a bath. I felt so grateful to him for that.

After Judith stopped praying aloud we were silent for several minutes. I was just trying to be calm and let God in, and try to know his peace. Then I thanked Judith and she asked how I was feeling. I know I keep on about this, but it's sort of a biggie for me - it was weird to be talking to Judith knowing she could tell I was crying. It felt like I wasn't really me, or that she wasn't really her. No, that's all mixed-up. I mean it felt like I never knew her so well as I suddenly knew her then, I never felt as close to her as a friend till I allowed myself to cry with her. Okay so that's not gonna happen anywhere but on the phone because that's a problem for me, but still, it was a huge barrier down in our friendship. I like that.

I did not feel any better at the time at all, so I told her how I was feeling. I let myself use the tone of voice that came naturally, not the upbeat one that usually gets used when I feel funny about getting too vulnerable with a friend. I never used an unhappy voice with Judith before. It felt so good to be that open with someone, live and in person, and to not be afraid to reveal that kind of pain. SUCH a relief.

Then since that was such a feeling of release, I went on and told her how some of the things she prayed really hurt to think about. I told her I did not want God loosening the ties between me and Cameron. I did not want to let him go. She said I need to eventually. I know that, and I told her I know it, but I DO NOT WANT TO now. She suggested I write a letter to Cameron telling him how I feel about him and allll the things I want to say to him, as a way of saying goodbye. That idea just broke me up, not writing the letter, but of saying goodbye. It's exactly that part that I want to avoid right now. I said I didn't want to. She was so nice and so understanding, but she encouraged me to do it all the same, even if I took a long time to write it all, or if I only did one part of it for now, so I said I would try. I never heard Judith talk to anyone with such heartfelt tenderness before, I never heard it in her voice until today. But that part is wonderful because I know we just got a big step closer as friends, and I like that very much. I really love Judith. I want to be close friends with her, I have for ages. I want to be there for her as much as she's there for me. It feels ages since I've had a friend like that, a girl-friend who isn't in the family.

Well Judith said I should call her any time, whenever I wanted prayer support, any time. I felt so torn up with sadness and pain inside but I was glad I had phoned her and asked her to pray with me all the same. Neil was still in his bath when I put the phone down, and the house was still completely dark which actually was comforting to me at that time so I left the lights off. I went in the kitchen to lean on the fridge-freezer (oddly comforting - maybe because it's bigger than me and unmovable?!) and cried and sobbed till I worried about being sick. I felt okay again so I took the laundry out that had just finished tumble-drying. It was warm in my arms and for some reason that made me cry more than ever, so I sat on the sofa in the dark and hugged the warm washing and cried as long as I needed to. I feel good to be able to cry, though it hurt so so much, and I felt proud to be allowing myself to let go emotionally. I haven't always given myself permission, so I'm glad to be being healthy about it at least.

I think I got all cried out which is a really good thing isn't it? I read on the bereavement website that crying it all out is a good thing, whenever it's needed. Mostly when I have cried about Cam I have sort of given myself a while and then called time. Or I've had to stop because I've had to go and do something else. But today I just let go and stopped when I stopped, which felt soooo right and I'm so relieved. I should definitely do that more often when I need to. I stayed in the dark hugging the washing until it was cold and my face felt like it had a dried mud pack on it with all the salty tears drying it out! And then Neil came down and put the lights on and we talked for a long time. I told him about how I've been feeling all day, about visiting the cemetery, about crying, about the phone call with Judith, and about the dream I had last night about Cameron. When I was done, it was the most amazing thing - I felt light, and I even felt like being cheeky and having fun and laughing. I was amazed, really I was. I also felt very close to Neil for it too. I told him this and he was really pleased about it. I was too. I came up here to write this diary entry while he watched something on TV he wanted to see, and I felt so weird going up the stairs. Good weird though. I felt light and cheerful and happy at the same time as wrung out and drained and achy with sadness. So weird. But it's got to be good, right?

My goodness my little boy was special. Look how much he was embedded in my heart! You can tell by how much pain it causes to "un"embed him. It's agony to seperate us because we loved each other that much. That's a good thing too, I know it is. The fact that this hurts THIS bad, and that I am not finding it easy to deal with his death, means that he was special, that our relationship was valid, that he meant more to me than most things in my life. I read on the bereavement site that the depth of our grief depends on how much we had invested in the relationship with the person we lost. So now I do not feel so bad that I want to die with how much it hurts. It has a positive side - it means I really did love him as much as I thought I did.

Recent entries.....

Cameron's first anniversary - 2004-09-24
Update - 5th Anniversary and other stuff! - 2004-08-16
Church picnic and being happy and things :) - 2004-06-27
Barbeque at Cameron's house... - 2004-05-18
To Tara... - 2004-04-19