Yesterday was the first day of spring and yet here in Montreal we had a snow storm that had started Monday evening and went on till Wednesday morning. My car embedded with snow was parked on the wrong side of the street. So I had to move it to the opposite side. As my son shoveled and I cleaned, I looked around. Everything was exactly the same as before, it looked like nothing had changed at all. In the words of Vera Brittain:
“Everything is so exactly the same as before, which brings it all back so vividly. It seems unendurable that everything should be the same.”
As we shoveled and cleaned and reversed and pushed for over an hour to move the car I couldn’t help but wonder where he was. It was as if I was looking at my past from a great distance, where everything had changed and yet in other ways nothing had changed at all. The street was the same, the people were the same and everything was exactly the same as before. Only he was not here. And as I sat in the car trying to start it I wondered where he was – and if he was at all. As I now wonder if he sees me writing this. I have a feeling he does. I miss him as much as ever I did.
It’s ridiculous to say time makes one forget or time heals. I have recovered from the shock, people always do. It is quite easy for me now to understand how he died. It was quite ordinary and I can only say he was just unlucky. But I can never get over his loss. God knows I am trying to come to terms with it. But I am not and never will be the same after it. I don’t know how to get used to facing the long empty years ahead of me, try as I may, realizing how empty they will be since he will never be there again. Thinking how he would never again know the smell of a wet evening in early spring. Thinking how he will not be there when our son graduates or finds his first love. Thinking he will not be there to walk our daughter down the aisle… But perhaps
“Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain
Although bereft of you.
But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.” (V.B. 1916)