Thursday, August 28, 2014

TRAVELLING THROUGH GRIEF

After his mother died he was inconsolable. He lost weight, ate minimally and lapsed into a torpor of unbelonging . It seemed he was cast adrift. The delicious ironies and circumlocutions that constituted our earlier interchanges were now reduced to monosyllabic colloquies usually uttered by me, only to be met with his bewildering unresponsiveness.
I tried to talk him out of it, presenting the naturalness of death as an antidote to life's greater mysteries. In bed he was cold and my erotic ministrations were disregarded. Never had i witnessed such unmitigated mourning and try as i might to reach the core of his grief i would never succeed because he was in another zone altogether, unreachable, cold and distant.
I trusted to time to alleviate his misery, hoping that an observable duration would palliate the intensity. At the same time i decided to exercise vigilance, to be observant of subtle changes in demeanor and circumvent them before they were eroded by attrition. Clearly he was deeply attached to his mother and the loss had hit him hard, brought out the vulnerability immanent in him.
As far as my reflections were concerned he seemed to revert to a primitive state. It seemed to me that the ineluctability of death overrode its finality for him. The death had occurred had struck a blow from which he, insensate, irretrievably enmeshed, refused to recover.
I do not know the exact nature of his relationship to his mother though i do discern a closeness, an inviolable propinquity that drew them close to each other. Is it the fact of her absence or the unavoidability of his protracted presence in her absence that grieved him thus? Did he wish to subsume himself to the depredations of self annihilation to restitute the misery her death engendered? Such speculations, fruitless though undeniable surfaced in my consciousness inveterately.
Slowly he recovered. We started having sex again. Yet the ardor, the fervor was missing. Though a resumption of the quotidian was outwardly accomplished an inner withering had taken place. As for me, who claimed to know him there was not only the realization that there were aspects of his being i could never understand but that a part of him, with her death, had died to. And with this shriveled togetherness i'd have to contend and be content with.

No comments:

Post a Comment