The dark cloud looms again.

I wish I was writing to say all is well and once you reach the acceptance stage of grief that it is the end of the pain and the darkness.

But sadly it isn’t. It doesn’t just leave and if it has for you – please tell me how.

It’s creeping close to Marcus’ twelfth anniversary. And while it seems so long ago the hurt is ever strong. 

The world has moved on but the grief is the same. I’ve had some of the most amazing and happy times of recent but that doesn’t just wipe away the dark cloud of grief. 

I’ll be honest I’ve been struggling a little bit lately. Marcus’ 30th birthday just past was a stark reminder of his loss. “Where would he be? And what would he be doing with his life?” 

I imagine he would have a successful veterinary practice now, maybe a wife and a child. A busy social life while fitting in his rugby and GAA. But these are all assumptions of a life that isn’t possible for him or for me. 

Then reality comes crashing down. He’s dead. He’s gone. And that lonely girl is in the darkened room. Fear and anxiety ever present. Suddenly all wisdom and knowledge and even years of work have vanished into thin air.

It’s back to that faithful night. In A&E, the halls crowded, the pleas and the hope. The deals made with the man above but it was never enough. 

His time was up. 

And as I sit alone I realise that no matter how great and colourful the world around me, it’s fear that hangs over me. 

The loneliness of grief laying heavy on my heart. The fresh tears falling and the pain that will not part.

I know I’ll be okay, I know this will pass but just for now the silence is where I shall rest my grieving heart! 

Marcus,

12 years in heaven 

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