The pain of grief is like no other pain I have experienced in my life.

Being told that Yolanda wasn’t going to make it brought on a crushing pain that I believed could not be surpassed. However with the tiniest of glimmers of hope I fought on knowing I had to be strong for her and the girls. Being strong perhaps isn’t the right word. I needed to be present with Yolanda in order to ensure that my collapsing world didn’t cause her to crash in a state of despair.

Then the worst nightmare of my life began a few days later as the machine, to which she was attached, first showed a massive drop in blood pressure followed by the inevitable flat line and the screaming of the machine. Yolanda was gone, only an empty shell remained that once housed my soulmate. A shell of what once was, a shell of all the future dreams and promises. In that moment, as time stood still, my life collapsed. Shattered into a million pieces. The crushing weight of the entire universe pressing down on my chest. Each breath feeling as if I was existing in an oxygen starved environment. I however needed to gather myself and deal with all the administrative aspects of death. This I dealt with in one of my earlier blogs titled Admin, admin, admin.

The days, weeks, months and years of Yolanda’s passing have been captured in my blog post over this time. When I reflect over these post I do see a noticeable growth, a maturation probably similar to that of a good wine. At first a bitter foul taste that causes you to spit out what you have just tasted to a point where the flavours are starting to blend and even combine as a sweet melody rolls over your tongue.

However as I experienced this weekend, the initial pain can revisit. Looking at our family photo wall just touched a nerve. It is crazy as I look at this wall daily and haven’t had this nerve touched quite like yesterday. What made yesterday different? Well I stood there with my Mom and sister, this just brought on immense pain as Yolanda was missing. To my Mom Yolanda was a daughter not a daughter-in-law, they were closer than probably any relationship my Mom had with any of her children. To my sister, Yolanda was that sister she never had, they could laugh and be silly together however there existed a deep respect for one another.

The pain was back totally unannounced however it’s power seemed a little less. I was knocked down but I knew that I could stand up before the count was over. After all I have done it many times since the passing of Yolanda. I have been fortunate to be surrounded by a loving family. understanding work colleagues, friends as well as a Griefshare family. Through all of these days it has not been my strength that has sustained me. Rather it has been my decision to trust the One who created me. The One who knows and understands me and accepts me with all my imperfections.

Will the pain return again, I am absolutely certain it will. However with each returning of the pain I am reminded that I have survived each “pain” with the hand of God our Father gently lifting me from the canvas.

2 thoughts on “The inescapable pain.

  1. Hi John. When I began writing my blog it was with the intention of helping others going through a similar experience. I however have gained so much from these writings, some cathartic release, feedback from people all around the world and most of all knowing that Yolanda’s passing was not for nothing. I am always amazed at how others have related to my story. Sometimes we feel so alone thinking that in some weird and wonderful way we are the only one walking our path, then the realization that we are all linked.

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