These entries begin shortly after Anna’s funeral and cremation in July 2016. They are based on text messages, email and journal entries. Anna and Conal had been together since 1978.
October 6, 2016: The fact that my mind wakes me to – urging me to write – is a good sign. But three times in the past two months I’ve found myself at the keyboard at 4.30am determined to frame what has been happening since July. And three times I have been reduced to tears after three sentences and shut the computer down.
Starting the day crying is not a good thing. It saps me of energy, leaves me flat and looking for chocolate with breakfast.
My Male Psychologist reckons my Non-Grief Subconscious Brain is deliberately make me do things that I will enjoy and get pleasure from … in order to protect me from Grief Monster that is currently behind bars in my mind.
Maybe I can deal with Grief Monster (ie my grief emotions) when it is asleep? Or drunk? Or not looking? I suspect it will be a combination of all those things. I think the best approach might be a late-night session at the keyboard with a nice cheeseboard, a large glass with a bottle of red wine.
There have been many times over the past four months when I’ve really wanted to get drunk – to blot out the pain and the loss. So far that has only happened once – at the Wake for Anna in early August.
Since mid-August I’ve been dry Monday to Friday and keeping my five standard measures of alcohol for the weekend. So that means I can have a six-pack of light beer, and one glass of red wine on a Sunday night.
How am I finding it? Tough.
I tried non-alcohol shiraz. It was dreadful, sweet – like cordial. I have three kinds of beer in the house. Heavy beer (leftover from the funeral) – which is 1.5 standard drinks. Light beer – 0.8 standard drinks, and non-alcoholic beer – 0.0 standard drinks.
The non-alcohol beer is fine … as a thirst quencher and is fine with meals. But ….
It reminds me of that joke: A doctor tells a worried patient to stop smoking, stop drinking, stop eating fatty foods, stop taking sugar. Dumbfounded the patient replies: “Then will I live to 100?” The doctor shakes his head and tells the patient: “Nope … it will feel like you’ve lived to 100”.
When I do have a glass of red wine now, there is glass of soda water beside it. I sip the red wine, next time sip the soda water. Does it work? Yes. Does it make me feel better? Nope.
Do the evenings seem long? Yep. Do I sleep better? Yes.
Do I miss drinking red wine, eating cheese and shouting at the rugby game on the TV? You betcha.
So, why the lack of alcohol? My GP, Dr K, thinks there might be something wrong awry with my liver. Nothing to be concerned about. But she wants to keep an eye on it.
***
Last week Son spotted a photo of Anna in Ireland taken the previous year. “Did you know Mum was dying and you decided to give her one last trip to say goodbye?” he asked. (Anna had gone to Ireland to attend a wedding and to see her family.)
It was the first time in weeks that Son had raised Anna. I told him “No”.
Really it is a license to go mad (with grief). To cry and wail. To work on my grief. To recover and re-discover who I am and what I want out of life.
Conal Healy, Grief Survivor
“As far as we were concerned” I told him “Mum was in the clear. The breast cancer treatment wasn’t really needed. In hindsight, she probably didn’t need it. When they found the brain cancers in January it came as a complete shock to the both of us.” And the conversation went from there.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know what caused Anna’s death. The death cert blamed the lung cancer. Maybe some of the cancers cells escaped the lungs and ended up in her her brain.
To go back to May, the two tumors they found (in Anna’s brain) in January had dissolved. The new tumor that they spotted in May should have disappeared after the radiotherapy in June. Anna should have been in there clear. She wasn’t.
Almost immediately after that final radiotherapy she started to get worse. There might been a burst blood vessel in her brain? One of the blood clots in her lung – or leg – might have broken off and made its way to her brain? A new tumor might have developed?
And that was what killed her? I don’t know.
Does it keep me awake at night? No.
Does it change anything? No.
***
About a month after Anna’s death, I started drawing up arrangements – in case I died suddenly.
It listed where I wanted the service, what kind of coffin I wanted (cardboard) and the music I wanted played (Sex Pistols, Pixies, Talking Heads). My Daughter knows where to find these arrangements. I know how horrible a death can be for the survivors … and I wanted to ease some of the pain associated with my passing.
Whenever that will be.
***
What else can I tell you? We found the Holy Grail last week.
In the months before she died, Anna went looking for her favourite recipe book. This book contained the recipe for her family-famous Christmas pudding. Anna swore she had lent the book to somebody but never got around to the getting that book back.
When Anna died, we feared we had lost Anna’s Christmas Pudding recipe to history.
When I was clearing out the garage I emptied a few boxes and lo and behold, there was the book.
And at the back was her hand-written notes for three different Christmas Puddings. So we are going to try and re-create the puddings. (Seeing Anna’s handwriting again, did make me cry.)
***
What happens now? The 2016 Plan is nearly over. What next? The Original 2016 Plan was for Son to complete his upcoming HSC exams, move out to go to uni and for Anna and Conal to become Empty Nesters, this would allow us to re-connect as a couple. Both of us would be working, we would have two incomes – so we could travel and enjoy life. That was the Original 2016 Plan. Again, what happens now?
***
Well, I am expecting Anna to be busy over the next few weeks, looking over the shoulder of various Exam Markers, making sure Son gets a good HSC Score. Then I expect her to be loitering around various university departments making sure Son gets into a good course in a good university.
I mean, after all the trouble Anna has put us ALL through in 2016 … it is the least she could do. And I am holding onto ashes – literally – until she comes up with the goods. 🙂
***
To change the subject I did a bit of research and discovered – according the Catholic Church – that I should mourn Anna for one year and one day. I’ve decided to follow that. It will take me that long to rebuild my mind, my psyche. My ego and Id.
Really it is a license to go mad (with grief). To cry and wail. To work on my grief. To recover and re-discover who I am and what I want out of life.
My Male Psychologist reckons I’ve got another 30 years in front of me. He asked me would I consider leaving my home in Tweed Heads. “Anna isn’t here. Nothing to stop you moving away” he said.
I looked at him and said: “If you are from Ireland, then Tweed Heads is paradise. Why would I leave?”.
I have been giving the future some thought. I’ve thought about doing a uni course next year. Maybe do a night course at the local technical college.
My photos are picking up awards and recognition from fellow Instagrammer – apparently people like the weird and strange photos that I take.
How long does grief last?
There is no set timetable for grief.
You may start to feel better in 6 to 8 weeks, but the whole process can last anywhere from six months to four years.
You may start to feel better in small ways.
It will start to get a little easier to get up in the morning, or maybe you’ll have more energy.
– familydoctor.org
