It is 2 days after the funeral and quite a few people have been lovely and texted/messaged me to see how I am doing. Apparently the days after the funeral are the hardest.
Today I picked up the clothes Jane wore when she died. They have been at the funeral home for more than a week now. When I got them back, I smelled the t-shirt, hoping to get a little bit of Jane back. But they just smelled of morgue. I had planned not to wash them for a while. I wanted to sleep in them. But I won’t now.
It doesn’t make me cry when I sleep with her teddy bear. It doesn’t make me cry when I wear her clothes. It just makes me feel closer to her. I feel more comfortable with something of Jane around me. It doesn’t matter that it does not smell of her.
I was expecting to be much more teary than I am. But I am OK. Maybe it is because, being alone, you don’t actually talk about Jane. And talking about someone is a lot more emotional than just thinking about someone. I notice I am more likely to cry or get upset when I am talking to someone about Jane. And being home alone means I don’t talk. So I don’t cry.
I am no better or worse today than I was before the funeral, or just after Jane’s death. I am confused by this as I am not really feeling upset. I just feel flat and bored of being without my lover to cuddle up to, even if she didn’t notice it anymore at the end.
But maybe I am just not too much about crying. Maybe that is not ‘my kind of mourning’.
Maybe that is what my mourning is: not a feeling of acute pain, but an underlying feeling of your world being incomplete in a way that is hard to explain….