His picture is on our fridge, held there by an alphabet magnet on one end and Pickup Stix magnet on the other. Part of a careless gallery of photos and ephemera. I feel guilty that I look at that photo more now than I did when he was alive. Still alive, a little over two weeks ago. Now I look at it constantly. MB looks at it constantly. Part of me feels frantic to take it down. It’s too much to see his open face, his shining eyes, knowing he’s gone and I’m just getting some milk. It seems wrong. I want to take the photo down so I can get some milk. I don’t want him to see me doing something so mundane. But then I don’t want to take him down just so I can get some stupid milk. Standing at the fridge door has become some cosmic junction between the everyday and the eternal.
And I am bothered by milk.
So sorry…..
That must be really hard for you. There seems to me something bittersweetly lovely about the fact that the photo is on your fridge, that it ended up there whenever it did, so it’s there for you now. Not to torture you, I am sure. . . but maybe it’s just not a consolation yet. I’m sorry for your loss.
i am so sorry for your loss tracey and mb. please accept my heartfelt condolences.
I’m so sorry for your loss, honey.
I don’t know if this helps at all (because in the midst of grief, nothing really helps), but I had the same struggle with my photos. My friend – I had several photos of him on the wall in the hallway that leads into my living room. They had been there for a long time, part of a grouping of photos that included him and a few of my other closest friends. I added to it now and then.
So, after his death I would alternately stand in the hallway and stare at his face or walk through the hallway quickly so i didn’t make “eye contact” with him…
Then I found that eventually I came to this: I loved this person. I loved him enough during his life that I wanted his face to greet me each day. I look at his photo more intently now just because I don’t get to see him in person – it just makes sense. Leaving his photos where they already were just reinforces that he is important to me and continues to be important to me long after his passing.
Eventually I reached a point where I found warmth in knowing that those photos went up BEFORE I lost him- somehow it makes it feel that they just belong there. That, even in the midst of my grief, he is still a part of my everyday life. Eventually it became reassuring instead of disconcerting that I was looking at his face when I wandered around the house doing something mundane like brushing my teeth in the morning. I think he would like that.
You are in my prayers. **hug**
I’m so sorry, Tracey.
Thanks, everyone. That’s sweet of you all.
Marisa — Well, in the midst of this, can I say I am just SO happy to see you? I really am. I’ve missed you. Here and at “your place,” too.
Thank you, hon. I miss you, too. Slowly but surely finding my way back. 🙂
Thinking about you and hope you’re doing alright.
Tracey,
I feel like saying, “I’m thinking about you and praying for you” will just come across as sort of cliche at this point, since I’ve taken so long to say it, and since others have already done so far better than I. But it remains true.
Katie