I miss Triona every single day. Some days it’s really painful. I feel heavy and lethargic with the weight of missing her, there’s a dull ache in my entire body and my chest feels full to the point of bursting. I describe these collection of sensations as being ‘heart-sore’ or “homesick”, my heart feels fragile, battered and bruised, my stomach churns with dread. For a little while I need to be soothed, almost like a baby, a gentle embrace and gentle words are like a balm to my heart.
“A gentle word, a kind look, a good natured smile can work wonders and accomplish miracles.” William Hazlitt
Every task requires a herculean effort and I go about my chores in a very mechanical way, going through the motions I suppose you could call it. My head is buzzing and chaotic with thoughts of her, alive, laughing, singing, dancing, washing dishes, hoovering, scolding me, a flurry of activity – all of these images and more rushing and flashing through my mind. I wish it would slow down, but it never does. I long to feel each memory fully, every second of it, absorb it and bask in it for a while but just as it flashes in front of me it fades away.
These days are a little less frequent now compared to the early days but they do seem to spring out at me from time to time and I have come to enjoy them. These days are about Triona the person, the sister, the daughter, the friend, the aunt. These days are not about her death, these are the days about how she lived and these are the days I have come to love. I feel closer to her, the memories swirl about me, fleetingly wrapping themselves like a shawl or scarf around my shoulders. She feels alive, I can hear her voice, her laugh. I can see life and love sparkle and shine out of her eyes. I can see and feel her happiness. She is radiant.
She is still
As the shawl of misty memories slips away I feel a little melancholy and bereft, I am homesick for her even more than before. But then I try to think of it like a wee visit. Like she has just popped in to spend a bit of time with me and check that I am doing ok. In true Triona fashion she sweeps in, does what she needs to do and sweeps back out again. When she was alive she had this fantastic knack of doing things for people they didn’t even know needed doing. She would be in and out of your life or your house, having sorted something or other out for you without you realising it until she was gone. But you felt it. She always left her mark. She was like a wee fairy, sprinkling her magic dust wherever she went, not for favour or recognition in return, but for the sheer joy of making life easier for others and making them happy too. I like to think she is still.