Grief


This morning I got up and unintentionally dressed all in black. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt nothing. I saw that my attire screamed mourning, my face was emotionless and my eyes were sleepless and empty. It was my head and not my heart that began to rummage frantically through my cardigan drawer for something colourful, something she would have loved. I want coffee, I need sleep, I feel sick.

The words 'Annie died in the car-crash' are looping like a broken record in my head, flashing in front of my eyes and taking my breath away.It just doesn't seem real. As soon as the words left my father's mouth I felt such a pang of anguish, I wanted to tear my clothes and just crumple to the ground. I wanted to pick up my phone and see a text from her, something hilarious, one of her many amazing one-liners just a sign that what I had just heard wasn't true.

Angharad Clague was, no, IS my best friend. The word love doesn't even come close to what I feel for her. She has had such an impact on my life and I know that our hearts are linked for eternity. I have had a text from her everyday for four years, I have not gone a day without speaking to her. We baked cakes, sometimes they looked like wonky boobs, sometimes they rivalled Nigela. We sang very loudly to cheesy christian pop like Michael W Smith and Jump 5, we drank McDonalds dry of watered down coke, we spent a ridiculous amount of time browsing Bentalls department store and bitching about their pitiful Cath Kidston display. On Sunday evenings I would pop over to her house after church and we'd sit and watch Buffy whilst drinking pear cider and eating rainbowdrops. She was my fellow Gilmore Girls fan; we were desperate to move to Stars Hollow and find our Lukes and Logans. We spent most Thursdays in the church office drinking Costa, mentoring Liam and attempting to do some work. Our relationship was one never-ending conversation. I cried with her when she was heartbroken and she was the first one at my door (armed with chocolate!) when someone broke mine. She knew me so well, she protected me, encouraged me and whenever I felt weird or out of place she would always say 'But that's who you are and that's why I love you'. I could be completely myself around her, we had no secrets, no stone was left unturned.

We were going to be uni buddies together. Bristol was our destination, the elusive haven that made our the remainder of our days in Bracknell bearable. She was desperate for new experiences, the opportunity to meet new people. We were going to go church-hunting together, have sunday lunches, continue our Thursday time tradition and go shopping in Ikea for supplies. I know the route from my halls of residence to hers, she was going to come and enjoy my gorgeous window and I was going to use her ensuite. I was going to find her a rich, wealthy husband who would buy her all the Cath Kidston goodies she desired and she was going to sit and watch all my plays. Every so often we would look at each other and go 'AAAHHHH BRISTOL' (like AHHH BISTO) hahahaha. Ah mate. I can still hear her laugh. She was so full of joy. She was never half hearted in her relationships, she pursued friendships with an inspiring fervor always wanting to spend time with you, always prepared to come round and catchup.

I know that the next few months are going to be hard, I haven't even started the grieving process. I can feel the tears building up behind my eyes and I know that at some point today I am going to scream and cry out in grief. I MISS HER. I miss her so much! Yet I know she is with Jesus and when I say I know I mean I am absolutely convinced. I know I will see her again in eternity, but that just seems so far away. As I'm writing this I can totally hear her saying 'Man- up Jackson, you have your whole life ahead of you, stop whining and get on with it' Part of me wanted to burn my Cath Kidston book bag this morning, just the sight of it made me feel sick, but once again I could hear her voice so clearly in my head telling me that it would be a waste of a perfectly good bag and that I would be a huge disappointment to her if I was to dispose of it.

I am just so devastated. I keep expecting her to walk through the church office door, ordering me to grab my purse cos she wants to go to Tesco. Oh Annie, it's going to be so hard to go through this life without you, but I am so grateful that I got the chance to be one of your very best friends. It was an honour, a privilege and I promise to do your memory justice by devoting myself to the path God has promised me. I will love you forever.



8 comments :

  1. Ellie,
    I am so sorry for your loss. You and Annie's families are in my prayers and you are already fully aware of the greatest comfort anyone can provide: she is in heaven now. I love you and your relationship with Annie sounds like one to rival the greatest friendships I have ever heard of--stay strong.
    anna

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  2. Love you so much. So good to read your heart. She was amazing, wasn't she? We won't EVER forget xxx

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  3. amazing blogpost i can't imagine going through what you are, your strength is amazing and truly inspiring, you'll be among the people in my prayers <3

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  4. I know your family a little bit, Eleanor, I remember you when you were really little. Obviously God has his hand on you in a huge way and he will pick you up, hoik you over His shoulder and carry you along through these difficult times. We are praying here in London... Sue Palin

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  5. my prayers are with you ellie and all that were close to anna and i pray the Holy Spirit comfort you all greatly.

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  6. amazing blogpost. when we get to heaven we will be with her for the rest of eternity xxx

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  7. I'm so sorry that you lost your best friend. I went through a similar thing so I know how you feel. From your blog it sounds like you've been dealing with it really well though. God is so good.

    (I started reading your blog after reading your tweets at Rocknations 2010. Your heart for God is an inspiration! I would just like you to know that.)

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  8. I don't remember specific conversations about Annie. I do in fact remember that she had such a lovely warmth about her and an amazing laugh. I remember her hugging me when I was five, and that she was pretty much my 'big sister'. She was fantastic, and I still think about her today.
    Roo Roper

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