Remembering Will Brown
It’s the anniversary of an old boyfriend’s death.
I’m just remembering him
remembering him
I can’t remember how many years it has been, though I know it hasn’t been enough. At about this time, however many years ago. He was taking his last breaths. His life support would have been shut down earlier today, at about 9am. No one would have thought to tell me before they decided to flick the switch. No. In fact, I would only get a call when hours after turning it off, he was still alive. Still waiting.
However many years ago, at about 1pm I would board a bus and head to our shared house, procrastinating perhaps, before heading to the Austen Hospital. Intensive Care, Ward 6b, second bed on the left. Next to the window. And he would be there drooling a little, asleep. HIs mother would let me have the room for a few minutes. I’d touch him, and speak to him. I’d tell him that I don’t know what to say to a person who most likely can’t hear me. I’d feel cut off when they all come in after only a few moments alone with him.
I’d leave again knowing it would be the last time I’d ever see him alive.
However many years ago, at about 4pm I’d go to the house we had shared for so many years, until recently. I take all the shirts we’d chosen for him together. And true to my promise to him from months earlier, (from all the promises we made in jest but now I felt committed to) I would take all his pornography so his parents would not find it. And I would board another bus, and train, and return home. Wherever home was supposed to be.
Then I sat there numb.
However many years ago, the next few weeks would be plagued with nightmares about finding him hunched over in the bottom of my wardrobe. I’d see flashes of him in the street. My phone would ring and I’d answer it to nobody. I’d roll over in the night expecting to find us in our old bed. I’d try my hardest, not to forget how he smelt. How he felt when he held me. I’d focus on the sound of his voice, or the texture of his hair. Trying so so hard to remember.
It’s been quite a few years now. How many, I dare not count. But it feels like yesterday. And I guess in a lot of ways I’m still numb. I’ve never visited his grave- I can’t bear to look at it. To accept that he is in there somewhere decomposing. Being numb has been my only protection from myself.
I wonder how many more years before I start to feel it.
Peace Mitchell
This is really great writing Jo, I can feel your emotion in your words, heartbreakingly beautiful work.
Faizan Qureshi
So touching.
Linda Syms
Very touching Jo.
Jo O'Brien
I’m a blubbering mess right now. Thanks guys.
Robert Knapman
Yes very strong and real Jo. The pain is palpable to anyone who’s lost someone. This is also a beautiful tribute.
Paul Louis Vil...
You may never lose that numbness… but you may begin to feel in other ways.
Peace and a hug to you my friend.
Jason Moses
Jo, you’re so strong to be able to share this. Blubber all you need to. Hugs, hugs, hugs.
Jo O'Brien
God I need them too right now.
Shit, admitting I need something. This isn’t like me at all!
Dee Boylan
Lovely Jo…you know sometimes the cruelest thing about someone yuou love dying is the people around them who think they love them more and have the right to control the goodbye process.
Holly Werner
Very touching Jo. The emotion is easily seen and felt.
Adrian Carmody
I’ve lost someone that couldn’t be replaced.
I’m richer for knowing them, but have an emptiness for not still having them.
It doesn’t get easier to not have them, but it does get to easier appreciate having been a part of their life
Tom Broderick IPA
This story made me sad. Tom
Jessica Tremp
beautifully written Jo…i almost hope you never have to feel it…when you do, you know where we are
photosan
When things come and go…and people we love leave us…we have to remember our true purpose on this earth…and that is…”Love ALONE Prevails, It was God’s intention from the beginning…it will be his determination in the end.”...nothing else matters….Live and love and cherish in the moment…we know not when it will be the last….
Sarah Moore
Hey Jo, losing someone you love is a horrid experience…but you hold on to the good times and remember them for who they were and how they made you feel! HUGS!
Belinda Piffero
My heart ached as I read this.
hugs is all I can offer, and a wish that you do start to feel it all, one day when you are ready.
(hug)
MissKristy
Grabs you in big bear hug not letting go.
‘I wonder how many more years before I start to feel it.’ – I think this IS your way of feeling it.
Much love to you always.
Jodi Webb
This is a beautifully written piece of work Jo, and my heart is breaking for the numbness you feel, and the possiblity of pain to come.
Christina Norwood
Grieving takes a long time, but can’t end if it’s not begun. Blessings on the journey, Jo.
Michael Alesich
Jo it’s a beautifully written piece,
I can’t think of anymore to say that would be fitting.
I hope you feel that you have any support you want.
Arcangelina
Hi Jo, Hugs to you. Very hard when you loose someone you love.
Sending you strength and light to help you through this sad journey.
Peter Hall
Well, sad as it is, you may take comfort from the fact that hearing is the last sense to go. It is a kindness to talk to the dying, even if they are unresponsive. So he heard all you had to say.
I lost someone special too, and the feeling does return.