Originally titled “Letting Go” or “Moving On,” this blog post seemed to have caused writer’s block for me. I couldn’t fully embrace the concept.
Last Monday marked two years since the day Darcy left us. I used to tell others who were grieving that the first anniversaries were the hardest. Yet, I found myself vividly recalling every moment of the last five weeks of her life, starting from the moment I heard the word “tumour.” I clung to these memories, never wanting to let go of the hollowness in my heart
But life moves forward, as I’ve always said. After much thought and discussion with friends, I understand intellectually that letting go doesn’t equate to forgetting. It’s about finding a way to carry the love and memories without being overwhelmed by the pain of loss. It doesn’t mean betraying Darcy’s memory or forgetting about her.
Shortly after Lulu arrived, I was talking to Diane, an animal communicator, to learn more about her, when Darcy kept interrupting. She had a message for me.
“I am OK. You can let me go because I will always be with you. But now be present – for Lulu and George.” (I’m Lulu) Another affirmation that it was time to let go.
She conveyed that she played a part in bringing Lulu into our lives. Diane affirmed, “Lulu is not a replacement.” I know that.
And something else happened last week when I took Lulu to Kynance Medivet for her rabies shot. Where once a photo of Darcy and George was pinned on their board, (some of you might have seen it) – is now an empty space.
It has been two years and it was time to take it down. I was sad, but it was another signal – time to let go.
Letting go of a loved one who has passed away is a deeply emotional and individual process. It involves accepting the reality of their absence and finding ways to move forward while honoring the shared memories.
Through the past two years, as I resisted the idea, I’ve come to realise that some aspects of this process not only make sense but also facilitate healing.
Acceptance has been crucial part in this grieving journey. Recognising the finality of her passing doesn’t mean forgetting her.
Emotional release is a healthy part of healing. It’s okay to grieve, feel sadness, anger, and even moments of laughter when reminiscing about the happy times.
Sometimes, when in the shower, I recall the evening after her splenectomy. I came home and sobbed in the shower – perhaps the water softened the cries, merging tears with its flow. I still get emotional when I talking about her, feeling the hollowness within.
Embracing the memories we shared, celebrating our life together, and acknowledging her impact on me is essential.
Whether re-visiting her first beach or walking through Kensington Gardens where she once roamed, I relive those memories.
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting; it means celebrating her beautiful legacy.
Honouring her memory through various means – and I have plenty! Her memorial bench, a wooden toy made in her likeness, a tattoo on my ankle, a pendant with “Darcy” in hieroglyphics, a candle burning on her urn, a gallery wall plastered with her pictures, a star named after her, time capsules in several cities, and the latest, Darcy Clematis scattered in several gardens. All these help me carry on with everyday life and have those things to keep her memory alive.
And then, wishing her peace. Send her on her journey with love, knowing she is okay. The most significant revelation I received was during an energy reading with Emma, when out of the blue, my parents’s spirit appeared – with a dog. My mum was eager to inform me that Darcy was with them, and they were taking care of her. (Family Reunion)
It was the best news she could have given me. (The energy reader didn’t know I have dogs.)
Grieving is a personal journey, and we experience it differently. And letting go is not a linear process, and it may take time,
“The pain we feel is directly proportional to how much you loved and were loved. It does not ever, apparently, go away altogether, but over time the howling diminishes to a roar, which reduces to a sigh and you find yourself able to go about your life again, though sadder, different. We were lucky to have them for their all-too-brief time in this realm.” – Susan T.
To those who have recently lost someone, especially those who have reached out, I just wanted to share this Instagram post I found:
They say that someone is never truly gone until you stop remembering them.
When you left this earth, a great part of me went missing. But I think you left some of yourself behind for me to find.
I gathered your things and held them close. I closed my eyes and for a moment it felt like you were here with me again.
I went through my pictures. I studied your face harder than I ever have. And for a moment those pictures brought you to life once more.
I found as many reasons as I could to talk about you. I tell stories about you and for a moment we are living in those memories again.
Every day I find as many reasons as I can to remember you. I find as many reasons as I can to not let the rest of you leave this earth.
And every day it brings me peace to know that as long as I remember you, a part of you will always be here.
“What we have once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose, for all that we love deeply becomes a part of us.” – Helen Keller
