Tuesday, August 07, 2007

7th August
I saw my bereavement counsellor this morning.
Just before then I had said goodbye to my daughter, who is off to a rock festival on an island in the river near Budapest.
My mother's so sudden death when I was so young (12 years old) has left me with a real fear of farewells. I no longer have any guarantee I will see the person I love again.
This has deepened since Susie died.
I walked down the road, crying, and suddenly became aware of what a familiar place this is.
This place of tears.
And that being familiar, it has a kind of safety to it.
Perhaps that was why I both surprised and frightened myself by saying that I thought our process was finished now, that a new chapter had begun.
Something of this had come from a dream I had in Nantucket.
I dreamt I was with Susie again, and it was so lovely to see her again.
Just unequivocally, totally lovely.
And I understood that the deal was I would not see her in daily life, she would be gone from there, but that she would present in that place. In the place of dreams.
And I wept bitterly, but at the same time knew that was right.
It's connected with that, this feeling that the deep mourning is now over.
And also with the explosion of story ideas and of creativity that I have been experiencing since.
And I feel uncertain and a little scared: as if poised on the unknown.

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