It comes from nowhere. The feeling of loss and desolation. The loss of the family unit. The love we shared as a family. It comes in waves. This time Lionel Richie’s “Hello” was on the radio. I was in the kitchen. And just happened to glance at the compilation of photos on the wall. There he was. Mark. The husband. Smiling with the girls. We used to do everything together. Family meals every day. Go shopping on a Saturday and have a coffee. Go to the beach on a Sunday. Have a swim in the sea and an aperitif in St Malo before coming home. Walks in the park. Buying a cake from the patisserie on a Sunday and eating it in front of the log fire. We had it all. The family bond was so strong. I believed it to be unbreakable. We used to love each other no matter what. And now what do I have? The girls blame me for the split. Although that’s got better. They are so much older now and more independent.
The sobs just come with no warning. The empty feeling. The loss of what we once had and shared. You just have to ride the storm. The sobs cease. You are on your own. You just want it back. You know that’s never going to happen. It’s gone far too far for that. Then you remember the hell when the arguments started. The emotional withdrawal. He became a six foot block of stone covered in two foot of ice. Yes, he is a gambler. No, he never admitted he had a problem. Yes, he still gambles. Life goes on. I am at the end of the tunnel. I can see the sunset. I am not quite there yet. But I can see it. I need to get to the end of the tunnel and step on the sand....experience the feeling of the sand between my toes while looking at the deep oranges and pinks of the sunset reflecting in the sea. That is beauty. That is peace.