Grief Again

It is so easy to slide into the pit of self-pity. I've been consciously trying to remain positive by, excuse the cliché, counting my blessings.

To some extent, Pollyanna's “Glad” game does work.

So many people ask me how I'm going, and I'm so aware as I talk to people that often their circumstances are less than ideal:

• some have been widowed longer than I was married,
• some are single and wish they could have been married but never found the right person,
• and some have been in marriages for forty years or more but have never felt loved.

And here am I, having experienced thirteen years of wedded bliss with my beloved Roslyn, and twenty two years of love with Julie before that - so much more than many have had.

I am also grateful for other aspects of my life.

• I live in a bushy, green suburb of Sydney, close to amenities, but with birdcall being the dominant sound.
• I live with comfort and convenience only dreamed of by millions in poverty.
• When I turn on the tap in my kitchen, water comes out every time. And I can drink it. Furthermore, if I turn the tap the other way, it comes out hot.
• I press a button on my kettle and in less than a minute I have boiling water. I press a switch on the wall and my room is fully illuminated. I press another button and my house is warmed in winter or cooled in summer.
• I have loving family and friends, many of whom would do anything for me if I needed it.
• I have faith in God who loves me and cares for me and has a wonderful plan for my life, even if right now I'm struggling with my loneliness.

None of this removes my intense longing for intimacy, but it does help to stop me spiralling into self-pity, which I know from experience is all too easy to surrender to.