My word for 2018:
My Choice

Thursday, June 11, 2015

I watched you die

Norsk tekst under bildet
I watched you die
Your body was
jaded and slashed by disease but
your life spark still burned

In that grey hospital room
cold rain poured down over 
the two of us standing there by 
your bed 
knowing that your last breath 
was imminent
That grey hospital room
that had been buzzing with action all night, now
there was only the hiss of life support

24 hours earlier you
loved me and
your life journey 
was victorious and magnificent
You were still magnificent
but your battered body was overriding 
your beautiful consciousness 
Time was running out
You and time 
were slipping through our fingers
there was nothing we could do to 
hold you back

Your time had come 
and you left us
your wife and your daughter
The two of us who
still have lives to live
but they are lives already scarred by
a son and a brother who went ahead of you
You saw him and
you knew he was waiting for you and
you went to be with him
Now you two have your own time

The agonizing pain of missing you both 
keeps driving holes through my heart

Jeg så at du var i ferd med å dø
Kroppen din var herjet av sykdom
men livsgløden var der ennå
I det grå sykehusrommet
strømmet kaldt regn ned over 
oss to som sto der ved
sengen din
og visste at snart ville du trekke ditt
siste åndedrag
I det grå sykehusrommet
som hadde vært fullt av aktivitet hele natten
hørtes nå bare lyden av respiratoren

24 timer tidligere
elsket du meg og
din livsreise var en seier og vidunderlig
Du var fremdeles vidunderlig
men din herjede kropp seiret
over ditt vakre sinn
Tiden var i ferd med å renne ut
Du og tiden
rant mellom fingrene våre
det var ingenting vi kunne gjøre
for å holde deg tilbake

Din tid var kommet
og du forlot oss
din hustru og din datter
Oss to
som fremdeles hadde liv å leve men
våre liv er arret av 
en sønn og en bror som dro før deg
Du så ham og
visste at han ventet på deg og
du dro for å være sammen med ham
Nå har du og han deres egen tid

Det smertelige savnet av dere begge
fortsetter å brenne huller i hjertet mitt

© Inger-Marie Sæverud


Steve Scott said...

Just beatuiful Inger.

I wonder if you would mind sharing the 1000 mental cuts that occur throughout the day as you live and realize your loss. Are you "bumping" into this constantly throughout your day?

I am experiencing this with my mother. Constantly reminded she is forever physically gone and painfully aware of my need for her physical presence.

I "talk" to her but it's not the same even though I can re-member what she would say or do - it fades, causing emotions from panic to guilt to simple sadness.

I see her all around me, her influence in my life was ever-present.

And then I think of you and Sigve,Geir and Hilde Marie and then I think of Brenda and my mind spins uncontrollably to the point that I have to deny the thoughts and stop to manage the fear and pain.

And insanely, the "moment" passes and I eat, or play tennis, or toss the ball with E, until the next moment captures me again and I wonder is it different, does "it" change over time or do I change as I adapt and survive.

It is a lot to put ourselves through and yet gives us some insight to this experience we call love.

It's not always happy hearts, but what in life is ever-constant?

Inger-M said...

Yes Steve, these days I bump into it constantly, and the pain is more physical now than it was in the early days. I cry a lot more now than I used to. Maybe I’m starting to come out of the ”fog” and reality is setting in. Pictures of Sigve and Geir Espen hit me like a punch in the gut, and I have to look away.
And yes, this need for physical presence. I know they are with me in spirit, although I usually don’t feel it very strongly, but it’s not enough.
I have been telling myself that burrowing into the pain serves no purpose, but I’m not so sure about that any more. Maybe it’s ok to surrender to the pain once in a while, as long as you know how to come back up for air. I think there may be therapy in it.
I also ”talk” to Sigve, but that wears me out. I find it’s better to write to him. Don’t know why that is.
Lately I find that I am most comfortable at home, alone. It’s even gotten to the point where I don’t handle being in a crowd very well, especially if I have to interact with people. I almost have panic attacks, and I know that if this continues, I’ll have to seek help.
I have already started changed the interior of our house, trying to make it ”mine” as opposed ”ours”. That was something I found I had to do, from early on. That way I don’t see Sigve’s influence as much as I probably would otherwise.

Grief is a process, and that’s probably a good thing. I’ve been following a few grief groups on FB, and this journey we’re on totally moves in waves. It’s important to remember that the process is different for each one of us, and there is no right or wrong way to do it.
Your last two lines remind me of another "poem" I wrote, that ends like this:

"The order of life has been shaken.
But living and loving is risking just that."

Love to you and to Brenda,
Inger xo

Steve Scott said...

I imagine a lifetime of love lost takes a lifetime to grieve. So in the end there really is no getting over it, just grieving and living with it.

Harsh words to say, harsher perhaps to hear, but they are the reality I am dealing with on some level.

I think losing a loved one is depressig and so I try to allow myself space to be depressed and as you say stay strong enough to come back up for air.

I remind myself that others need me and love me and want me to be there for them and looking at how the loss of someone I love dearly has affected me I realize how necessary it is that I not only live but stay vibrant and alive for them.

I have reconized in my darkest moments I feel selfish for denying them the strength and love they need in the very same way I yearn for it.

I know you know, but please be mindful of how much you are loved and how much you are needed.

You mean as much to someone else as Sigve and Geir mean to you.

And thank you for always sharing with me. I appreciate you creating the space for me to be vulnerable.

Brenda and I both send our love. <3