A tough day

It’s been a tough day today.  As tough as any of the other tough days I have had in the past six months.

If others are frustrated at my inability to move forward, to move on with a more positive air I would hope that they realise that I am no less frustrated than them; that it pains me greatly that I seem stuck in this crevasse of mournfulness.  I do not want to continue with these days of emotional slumps.  I so look forward to when I can finally look back on the past and feel nothing but warmth and happiness and joy for the things that I had.  At the present moment whenever I reflect on anything it is always tinged with enormous and heavy sadness, immense grief and with an extreme sense of loss that I cannot seem to overcome.

I try every tactic I can think of to avoid the melancholy emotions – am constantly trying to trick the mind around these moments when I feel them come along.  No matter the strategy I use they do not always allow me to suffocate them and do their best to explode in an emotional eruption of grief, loss and mourning.

Today has been one where no matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter who I see – everything I have done today has been tinged with memories of this time last year when I was doing almost the exact same thing as today but this time last year I had Tony with me, by my side.  And that's the point, he was still here.  

It’s no wonder that I try to fill my days with as much activity as possible – a tactic that does sometimes keep the emotions muffled - on a simmer rather than a boil – but whatever the activity is that I do one can guarantee it will bring back memories of Tony & I doing something similar at some time where that memory is indelible in my brain and with the memory comes the emotion.  It’s all a bugger.  

Tonight has not helped.  It’s the third night I have sat at home and watch the All Blacks play.  For twenty plus years Tony and I would be together and watch almost every All Blacks game. enjoying the highs and lows and critiquing the play as much as any other rugby spectator.  Many times we would have tickets to an All Black game and walk to Eden Park from our home and enjoy the entire atmosphere of the crowd walking to and from the game and spectator mood in the park stadium.

Sitting and watching it on television at home without him only makes the ending of the day no better than all the other experiences today where I could not help but be reminded of him.  

Presumably this reads very gloomy but it's not really - I do know this is all part of the process. I am taking myself off to a counselor who is being proactive in helping me be reasonably balanced about coping strategies. I do laugh at myself at times and shake my head and wonder at the emotional, sensitive, grown-up-child-like adult I am.

And there have been some highs today too – so I must not over look those. 

Tony would have grinned at my admiring the male eye-candy at the diving pool this morning.  So there is still some normality in my life. 

I also spent an hour or so being entertained by little Anthony this afternoon - Tony's three-month old namesake.  A tiny child was the perfect antidote for a disconsolate soul.

And I received two very nice emails today from very different people from different aspects of my life – both emails making some very complimentary comments to me, about me.  That doesn't happen often so was rather chuffed and immediately thought how proud Tony would have felt if he could have read them as he absolutely loved it when he ever heard someone compliment his wife and always acknowledged how proud he was of me.  

When I read these emails I so wanted him to have a read of them too, knowing the pleasure he would get.  I wondered to myself whether he had internet access wherever he was?  Then perhaps I could email them on to him. I could merely forward the emails on to him – maybe to Tony.Jackson@heaven.com  or maybe Tony.Jackson@godshouse.com   

Do you think he would get them?