Monday, 5 March 2012

Learning Lessons The Hard Way


My second novel, In Hindsight, tells the story of a young woman called Rowan and her attempt at getting her life back on track after the unexpected death of her husband. Of course things don't go smoothly when she eventually re-surfaces to face the world again. She finds out that her husband wasn't the man she thought he was. But it's my take on grief in my novel which needs editing, now that I'm experiencing it in reality.

I had my heroine suffering with Hollywood angst but not possessing the ability to carry on with everyday tasks. I had her in floods of tears and being cared for by her best friend like a child. Since dad died in January, I've learned the lesson of writing about grief the hard way.

It's a deep clawing sadness. It's a feeling that everything in your life is different - but nothing in your life has changed. It's catching your breath when the image of their smile floods your thoughts. It's love, loss, anguish, silence and madness. It's alternating between silently begging and bargaining with God to be a better person if only He could make you wake up and find you'd had a nightmare; that dad was still here. It's staring into the middle distance but seeing nothing. It's about continuing with life but weaving your memory of them into every task. It's smiling - even laughing - but then feeling that sharp prick of guilt that you've done so. It's painful. It's about swollen eyes and bitten nails. It's about watching the red digits flashing 3am. It's longing, anger, futility and tears. It's about seeing their likeness in a stranger and for one desperate second wanting to call their name - until you remember. It's about gazing at their photograph and willing the touch of the paper to feel warm like their skin; for the image to breathe once more. It's about holding your family closer. It's about clutching their clothing as if it were them. It's about standing silently in their bedroom and feeling their spirit about you.

It's the hardest thing I've ever done.

9 comments:

  1. I found myself nodding along to almost every word of this. The problem with Hollywood versions of grief is that they have to be 'finished' by the end of the film. It never finishes. My mum died almost nine years ago and there are still moments when I lose my train of thought, stop doing what I'm doing and am hit with a huge wave of grief that I wasn't expecting. The trouble is, we have to carry on. We don't get the luxury of utter collapse, even if there was an end to the grief in sight.

    I appreciate you sharing these intensely personal feelings with us.

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  2. This is so beautifully expressed Ange -the words are so eloquent and so powerful - that there is nothing else left to say other than I'm glad you're back here and writing. I'm sure the writing will help.

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  3. Ange, I adore you. You are a wonderful writer, but even more, a wonderful person. You're doing what a writer does: you use your experience and your emotions and share them with the world. You are a real writer.

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  4. Beautifully expressed, Ange. I also found myself nodding as I read.You have described perfectly some of the things I still experience 25 years after losing my brother. I was 14 and ill equipped to express as you have done here, thank you for sharing.Sending you and your family lots of love.

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  5. Sorry to hear about the loss of your father. My dad died just over a year ago (he was nearly 90 and faded away over a few months). I still miss him every day. It is like having a limb amputated. You know its gone. But you carry on. Just not in the same way.

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  6. Thank you wonderful writing friends. This is where the argument against social networks falls flat on its face. Twitter and facebook friends have been an enormous comfort. Thank you all so much. xxxx

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  7. Deeply resonant post Ange. I hope the writing helps a little. Take care x

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  8. I thought I'd left a message yesterday but Blogger must have eaten it! You summed up the feelings very well, Ange - I remember so many of them when my mother died. That angel photo is inspiring my imagination.

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  9. Thank you for dropping by Megan and Rosemary and for leaving a comment. You're both so supportive of my blog. Thank you so much. XX

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