It’s taken me eighteen months, several hundred bottles of red wine, counselling, pills, the support of friends, strangers and a spirited editor at Virgin to try to articulate how it feels to have lost Mark.
It took my daughter thirty seconds, a cup of warm milk and an Oreo to sum it up last night :
16 thoughts on “Warm milk and an Oreo”
I’m 44 but I know exactly how she feels. Give her the biggest hug ever. 2 years since my Dad and I miss him as much now as I ever have.
Hi Ian. I actually can’t imagine (or perhaps that should read ‘don’t want to imagine’) losing my Dad, but I can imagine that no matter what age you lose them, it’s still an impossible void. Biggest hug ever will be passed on – and one back to you. X
Babes and sucklings eh?
People expect you to “get over it” in time
But the loss is permanent and total
They are always not there
Not meaning to be depressing …. just sympathetic as a fellow suffer
Permanent and total indeed Bernie. It’s very hard to get your head round even as an adult. I imagine as a child it must be even more baffling. Hugs X
I can hear that echoing everywhere. Knowing the finality of it all does not stop your very soul from saying ‘I want him back’. My very first Christmas alone looms. The people who I don’t want to have Christmas lunch with have offered, but those who I would like to be with haven’t or are not able. More tears. Sorry, I have lost my sense of humour. Everyone assumes that I am coping well.
I hope that you manage a warm and comforting time with your family and 2015 brings some happiness and future.
OH Jinxy! The season is a relentless widow-baiter I have found; I’ve been pretty tearful myself the past couple of weeks. I hope that wherever you spend Xmas day you are supported by people who at least try to understand. Take one day at a time. Hugs to you. X
Lucie, Children are much more perceptive than we are. Xmas is the happiest time of the year for some but the saddest or loneliest time of the year for others. Whether we like it or not life goes on. You are a toughie and this time of the year is all about our children. Have the best time you possibly can and hope 2015 is an ever improving year for you xx
Thanks so much Derek – don’t feel like much of a toughie, but as you say, life has to go on. All the very best to you x
She found the words because you gave her the chance to find them. She allowed herself to say just what she meant. We so seldom give ourselves that freedom because we don’t think we can bear the pain in simple words. She knows the pain is the same, whatever words we use. Carry on, the pair of you, you’re doing fine with the thing you never wanted.
Lovely, supportive comment as always. Good to think we’re doing fine. 🙂 All good wishes to you this festive season XX
I cannot even imagine how finding those baby-scrawled words upon the page made your heart physically hurt. I completely agree with defferdiff that you and your gorgeous love and empathy for your darling little girl allowed her to be able to express her most profound thought, and the ache of longing – that of wanting her Daddy back. I wonder how being such a young child feels when they are able to express those sorts of feelings. do you think it provides a bit of respite, of relief? I hope it does. but I know, lucie, that with your infinite love for her and all the insights you have experienced you and she will find your way together. perhaps this is a watershed moment in her grieving that will open the door a little wider to being able to express her pain.
much love to you, Darling Lucie,
…as always ❤ Thank you Karen. xx
In the words of the poet, Donald Hall, “You think that their dying is the worst thing that could happen. Then they stay dead.” May 2015 continue to keep our loved ones alive in our memories.
LOVE this quote. Thank you so much for sharing it. X
I was thinking…hmmm…I share her sentiments, exactly. My daddy has been gone more than 4 years. I am 50 yr old. I still ‘want my daddy back’ though.
Yes, I can imagine my friend. Hugs xx