It has been a while coming but today feels like the right time to write a final post, officially as it were as I have hardly posted at all in the last three years. I thought I should let you know first of my decision to wrap this up. There have been times where the suggestion of moving on would be met with fury inside. Why do I want to fucking move on, doesn’t that mean I am trying to forget you? I like this pain; it is familiar and comforting and I can consistently hate and rage against it. But then there comes a time when the raging subsides a little and you realise you will probably never move on in the way you thought. You don’t wake up and it’s over, you don’t sidestep grief and pain but the relentless waves ease and rather than moving on you learn to live with the ebbing and flowing.
And I was cynical then that the hand we had been dealt had destroyed any hope, but I know now that it’s gossamer threads had lingered beyond your death. Hope I could make it through funerals and gloomy blooms and nights of tears and too much wine. Hope I could run and cook and still read a story to Cassidy and Kitty with fun and laughter and that I would not simply die one day of a broken heart. Because it is sore. Grief is fucking sore. Did you know your heart can actually ache with the pain of loss? Who knew?
There are many things I wish. I wish I did not see your light disappear in front of my eyes. I wish I had never seen the darkness take their blue, take the eyes that had had reprimanded me, captured and consoled me. Those eyes, those eyes, the ones your son has now. The eyes I like to think blossomed in my presence. I wish many things but I never wish I did not know you, meet you and love you.
It can be very hard to see any positives in this journey at times, I say that as if I have come to an end somehow. But things are never that cut and dried. What I think I mean is the positive thing is we are here, we have survived, a little war torn and battle worn, but we are here. Life does march on despite everything and I want you to know we have achieved what you would be most proud of; laughter and light. But there has to come a time when a line is drawn. You would agree I am sure. So this is the line under the T – Cell chronicles because that journey is well and truly over and if there is one thing you taught me in your death, it is how to say goodbye with dignity.