14 sentiments shared

Paint It Black. Or Not.

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

I heard this Rolling Stones song today. I always did like it, but then I love most of their music. My aunty loved it – she died young and it has always reminded me of her. Today it reminded me of life immediately after, and sometimes still, following Ava’s death.

I’ve spoken often about how “in the beginning”, in the weeks, even months, following Ava’s accident, I really believed nothing could ever be remotely joyous again. That every moment of every day would be clouded, aching, dread-full. Believe me, those moments still come…thick and fast. But I’ve also seen glimpses of a life that does include smiles and laughter along with the missing and the sadness. I’ve been told so many times by well meaning people “it never goes away, you just learn to live with it”…and truly, I found that terrifying at first. I see now that those people are right..it just becomes a part of us and we ever so slowly adjust and we might eventually create a new life, so different to what we’d planned..but potentially still a happy life. A different happy to what I knew happy to be before. It’s still quite hard to imagine but not absolutely impossible.

Unlike many other glib quotes, it actually is true that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” But I’ve found it also makes you calmer. And kinder. And grateful. We still have much to be thankful for. I think we’ll always walk under a cloud. Sometimes it will be black. But then sometimes it’ll be nothing but pink.

So these are my thoughts at 7.29 on a Thursday evening. I will quite possibly read over this tomorrow and wonder where I found the optimism but I’m happy to share my thoughts as they come and go…good, bad, indifferent.

1. Brissiemum2 says:

   (((Big hugs))) I honestly can’t think of anything else to say after reading that except that I hope it gets better for you.

   
2. Kristy says:

   There are a thousand cliches that could be used and most of them would seem glib.I could never even try to understand what you are going through or how you feel but just wanted to say something.Through my own grief I have learned that although it never goes away you will never want it to.The grief will not always be the raw hurting feeling that tears your heart in a second it will eventually become the way you still love and care for Ava.I really hope you understand what I’m trying to say and I don’t offend you.It’s hard to explain what I mean.That’s why people rely on the old cliches as they’d rather say them,rather than risk hurting by saying the wrong thing.xxx

   
3. Kim says:

   I have been so moved by your story and your writing that I come to check your blog every day. I know this sounds silly since I don’t even know you, but I think of your family and Ava often and it has made *me* a more patient, kinder, more appreciative person. I hug my own 3 year old girl even more often than I did before and I think about you and how sad it is that your 3 year old beautiful amazing girl is gone. I wish I could help you in some way – I truly do. You’ve honestly helped me and for that I am very grateful.

   
4. Lea says:

   Sheye, you know I have listened to that song so many times..it is one of those turn it up loud on the radio types, but yet I have never really taken the time to hear the words iykwim? Thank you.

   I hope the fireflies Jen spoke about are starting to fill the darkness a little more everyday.

   Lea xox

   
5. D says:

   you and your family are in my thoughts daily.
   i truly hope that the sun comes shining through the black a little more often every day…and you get to see more of the pink.

   
6. precious pink pumps says:

   take the good days when they come to you my darling, and never apologise for them. Noone is walking in your shoes except you. None of us has a handbook on how to get through whatever it is that we need to – but your path, I know, is so much more complicated and unpredictable than most. For that, I know you will continue to touch others without even trying – which is a crappy consolation for losing Ava. When I read those words I think (assuming Mick wrote them) wow…another person whose life has been devastated with the pain of loss and living life with grief. THere are so many people who are. IT never ceases to shock me. That there can be so much pain yet so much joy at the same time. I will love you whether your door is red or black or pink or any other colour. Just take it as it comes sweet girl x

   
7. Anonymous says:

   I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but know that I, along with many others, am holding your hand through this time, until the sky becomes clearer and colours less murky.

   
8. Fari says:

   I really dont know what to say. I am glad things are getting better but I am not if thats the right thing to say but I hope you dont take the wrong meaning out of what I am trying to say. Praying for you and your family like always. *hugs*

   
9. Jody says:

   Those ‘firefly moments’ will come and go for a long time. Possibly forever. I am learning too. Tis the journey some of us are on in life as we walk the path ‘less taken’. Yet it still holds beauty for each of us in our own way. Here’s wishing you polka dots of pink each step of the way. Ava will surely be with you in spirit and in many other ways too. Always pink, of course! Continued best to you and your family as your heart heals and life goes on.

   
10. Stephanie says:

    No words, just the most heartfelt prayers for you and yours. xoxo

    
11. Lynda says:

    I thought of Ava again this morning – my 5 year old asked if she could wear some of my perfume to school – the NO started to form on my lips and then out came Yes…and she was so happy that I don’t think I will ever forget the huge grin she had on her face..to think I almost missed it… thank you so much for sharing Ava and yourself with us…

    
12. Sue J says:

    I’m like Lea and play that song LOUD. But don’t really hear it. Thanks for helping me listen better, sweetie. I have seen so so many pink clouds over the last couple of months and one evening they ringed around the early moon like a halo – Ava is busy up there. :)
    love
    Sue J
    xxx

    
13. Kim says:

    I am so glad that you are having some pink clouds.
    xoxoxoxoxo

    
14. Melissa says:

    Hugs for you Sheye, I hope you have more & more pink clouds overhead each day & the black ones become few & far between.
    xxx Melissa