Life can be a cruel reminder that it stops for noone. Death visits but life carries on for those of us left. Much like divorce, over time, people will forget the pain but not the one who lost. I learnt from my time to never compare pain. People won’t want to here how hard it was when you lost your granny while they grieve for theirs. I didn’t want to hear how hard others found loss as I grieved over mine.
I learnt life isn’t a two way street. What you do for others won’t necessarily have been done for you when you needed it. And that’s ok, the key is to keep doing. I learnt that you can do a hundred things for someone but people will always remember that one thing you never did, allowing it to absolve you of any good. And that’s hard but it’s ok because you know.
“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good”.