Journey of Healing

 

Introduction

I am classed as a widower. I was first labelled with that term when I went to register my late wife’s death. Somehow the shock of that term shook me to my core. I am now officially classified. Carmel left us after 41 years of marriage. 41 years of love and pain of happiness and turmoil of laughter and arguments. All the ingredients of a typical marriage. Yet she was my lover, my best friend, my confidant, my soul mate. I refuse to be defined at this stage in terms of a term like widowhood. That seems so final. We still are joined together in a special bond that surpasses grief and loss. She was and is someone who held a special bond in my heart even though she is physically gone. She is still there surrounding me, looking after me and our children and our grandchildren. Her passing was sudden and unexpected. The grief was thrust upon me its stabbing wound suddenly and surely piercing my heart with a pain that left me numb and traumatized. There are so many memories to cherish as her photographs confront me every morning as I come downstairs to begin another day without her.

Regrets. Yes there are regrets which hover over me quietly nudging my conscience in a consistent way. I find myself wishing I I had said I love you more often, saying sorry which I in my arrogance and petulance when I should have known better.

I revisit the landscapes of our memories. Carmel’s presence surrounds me in every way. Her clothes still sit piled neatly in the bedroom or the landing as if waiting for her return. Familiar artefacts still rest where she had left them. Pieces of jewelry, books that she had left unread, all in their rightful place, only that she is not rightfully there to reclaim them. There is an empty place at the table, an absence in our home. Gone is the person I loved. No longer her soft touch as the morning light peaks through our bedroom window. The place where she slept in our bed is now empty. I miss her laughter, her joy, her playfulness, her sadness, her anger her presence…

I am fortunate to have the loving embrace of friends and family surrounding me including 2 beautiful daughters who care and love me whilst having to deal with their own grief. I hope that love is reciprocated in many ways. I also have two lovely grandchildren whose presence and playfulness are a blessing to my life.

We both had a love of travelling, exploring new places and drinking in the experiences that we encountered along the way, meeting new and interesting people, sometimes developing friendships that lasted over the years.

The fragile uncertainty of age was a looming presence in our lives over the last couple of years. Carmel had been living with a debilitating respiratory problem which would progressively worsen as time went on.

Little did we realise at the time but our journeys around the Greek islands in 2002 and 2003 would be our last great adventures together. Yet the memories of those journeys will always be a comforting presence in my life as we did so much together, enjoying and savoring each special moment whilst in each other’s company.

Who was she? Carmel was born and grew up on a farm in the townland of Killavney near the village of Augher in South Tryone. She travelled to British Columbia in Canada in her early 20’s to work as a teacher with Native Americans. After that she worked as a volunteer for Concern in Bangladesh where she lived for 3 years, working with widows from the Civil War to get into employment. Her travels were seen as unique and unusual by her local community in Augher as people went abroad to emigrate and usually never came back. But she always came back.

In the early 80’s we both met each other and we married in 1983. We were companions at a beautiful soul level and partnership through adventures, travels and life. We were blessed with two children, Grainne and Maeve and later two beautiful grandchildren, Darragh and Naia. Both our children became the activists that we were continually striving to be. Over the years our house became a welcoming hub for a whole range of visitors from all parts of the world who would be welcomed and made to feel at home.

Carmel throughout all her life became a great champion of equality, social justice and empowerment. She saw the need to work tirelessly supporting groups within the community to take control of their own agency. Most of Carmel’s working life was within education and the community and voluntary sector whether it be through health, women’s or community development organisiations.

In all her roles Carmel brought curiosity, vision, energy, creativity, an intolerance for injustice and an unwavering commitment to the voice of those involved. She enjoyed watching groups thrive acting always in a quietly supportive capacity. She was a mentor without knowing she was mentoring, she saw possibility where others saw problems, she leveraged issues that mattered to people strategically and always with fun and flair and flamboyance.

She displayed imagination and innovation and creativity. One title she would be proud to be associated with is disruptor. She wasn’t slow in challenging the system for the betterment of the ordinary person on the street and she often ruffled the feathers of the powers that be. She spoke truth to power and was fearless in doing so.

Here I hope I have done her memory justice.

I must acknowledge my grief as without that acknowledgement there can be no growth. I’ve read that people often find this growth when they have lost someone they have loved and having to find the strength inside themselves to be able to face up to that loss and to experience the emotions and feelings that come with that loss, and thus bring a truer meaning to their lives.

One way of dealing with my grief was to honor Carmel’s memory by revisiting the Greek Islands, this time by travelling overland by train and making my way back by the same means. This is the story of my journey.