A Grieving Year

I find it almost incomprehensible that such a talented man as my husband Reg was, is no more. How can such a large personality just be … well… gone? I can well imagine that death was what drove people to create religions. To be so full of life and personality one minute and be dead the next must have scared the wits out of early men and women. How to explain it?  Or perhaps they just accepted it, like they accepting hunting animals.

I am lucky to have so many videos of Reg. In a way, though, it’s even worse. To see him living and breathing and singing and then know that his body was burnt to a crisp and he lives no longer–that’s what I grieve. Even though he was a lousy husband, to know that you will never talk to that person again is a blow. But it’s not such a blow that I picture him in some imaginary place, like heaven or hell. He’s just gone. I feel nothing of his presence.

People ask me whether I felt his presence after he died and I haven’t. It’s not like I didn’t want to, but I don’t sense anything of him around me, watching me, or being near me. Perhaps it’s because we weren’t as close as some couples claim to be? Or, the more obvious explanation is that he’s no longer alive in spirit or in body, if there exists a duality in us. I am leaning toward no duality. Our personalities are formed by our life experiences, not our “spirits”. I don’t think I believe in spirits of dead people anymore even though it’s fun to imagine and hunt for ghosts. Yeah, like it’s fun to hunt for aliens to, but I don’t believe in them either.

Reg had a VERY large personality because he lived a very large and full life. Some don’t live half the life he did. I’m glad I can look back on that. Check Reg out doing what he loved the most: playing music.