Three months on

This is how I think it will go. Every day there will be a little less of you. We thought we lost you the moment the monitors showed the life left you but that wasn't the end of it. You were still very much here, you were everywhere, in us, our thoughts and memories and your belongings, even your body. It was like you had stepped out of the room and you were just around the corner. Now I feel we truly begin to lose you and we have to accept that with dignity and composure. Each day you slip away a little, maybe you don't flit through our minds, maybe something that was once yours simply becomes part of the scenery of our home, loses it's potency. Maybe we accept a little that you will not be back, that you aren't just in the next room, that you will never be now.
You gave me a gift in grief, I feel closer to myself than I ever have, I cut out all the distractions and felt I had less to lose than ever, and yet you brought into sudden clarity the things I could not live without. I took more risks, I made less apologies, I showed more compassion and forgiveness in grief. Grief has suited me, grief becomes me, grief means you are always close though I have lost you, while I still feel it's grip, it is your grip and you are still just on the edge of everything I do. I'm sad but I feel freer than I have in a long time. I miss you, I wish you were still here, but in your absence I feel you have given me something I needed.
Bless you Nan, my love always, Hannah