The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

Cryogenically Frozen Messages Of Love …
January 26, 2011, 6:36 am
Filed under: Comment

So up until recently, my wife always regarded my blogging as a bit of a joke … no different to the rest of you then.

She never could understand why I did it – or more precisely – why I spent so much time on it, which is a fair point because I haven’t got the faintest idea why I do it either.

Anyway a few days ago, all that changed and now Jill actively encourages me to continue writing it and it’s all because of an old woman.

You see Jill was recently listening to a podcast and the topic of death came up.

Given I had just gone through my Dad’s anniversary, Jill thought it would be interesting to hear how other people had dealt with their experiences and so listened to an elderly woman talk about how she felt when her husband died.

Without going into all the details, she said there were 2 key emotions that a person experienced when a person they loved died and they were depression and grief.

The difference between the 2 was that depression was completely unrelenting and debilitating whereas grief allowed you to still continue some sort of relationship with the person you have lost and ultimately fades away over time.

And you know what, she finally made everything I had/have experienced make sense.

When my father first passed away, I felt I was in no mans land.

While I still functioned, everything felt dull and bland … I had no sparkle or energy and spent my days ‘pretending’ I was OK to basically make other people feel better.

Feel better?

No, that’s not right … I did it because it helped people feel less uncomfortable in my company.

I always thought I felt this way because I hadn’t really grieved for my Dad … instead I had locked all my pain and sadness away in an emotional box that I had hidden somewhere deep inside me … however after hearing what this lady said, I now knew the real reason why I have started to feel better about my life without Dad [well, not better, but not in as much pain] and that is basically because I have now actually started grieving.

Yes, started.

You see, this woman believes that when you are depressed, you can’t see or talk about your loved one because it’s literally too painful, however when you are grieving, you can start including them in your life again.

Of course the sadness is still there, however it’s no longer totally debilitating and you can start remembering them in the good times.

In this ladies case, she was able to start re-reading the love letters her late husband had sent her and feel the love and closeness she once shared in the real World … whereas for me, I am now able to think and talk about my Dad in the good times, not just when he was ill and unable to talk or walk for his final few years.

This makes me very happy, because my Dad had so many wonderful traits [and a few pain-in-the-ass ones, ha] and I feel I’m beginning to see them again, whereas previously I was pre-occupied with his final days.

So what has this got to do with Jill wanting me to continue this blog?

Well basically, she likes the idea that when I’m gone, I will still be here.

Of course, that also indicates she thinks I’ll be dead before her, which is slightly concerning, but for her, this blog now represents who I am and what I have felt over a countless number of years so regardless what happens, she’ll always have a place where she can feel close to me and that gives her a great sense of comfort and calm.

I know … it’s kinda weird to think this blog could be anything that makes people feel good … but I must admit, when Jill told me this, it made me happy because amongst all the planning bollocks and Jillyism pisstaking, there are a few posts tucked away that are basically my version of love letters to her and I adore the fact that one day, when I am no longer here, she – and anyone else who happens to come across them – will know how much I love/d my darling wife.

Too often we talk about legacy in terms of what we have done to change the World – or our little part of the World – but we rarely think about it in terms of the feelings or messages we want to pass on to our loved ones, so whilst this blog is a far cry from Phil Toledano’s sensitively magnificent ‘Day’s With My Father’ or as genuinely brilliant as ex-W+K’er Rudy Adler recently launched ‘1000 Memories’, I love the idea my wife could go here or here or here or here or here and know she has always been my number one.

So I guess what this means is that this blog will remain open for the forseeable future.

Sorry. Blame Jill.

46 Comments so far
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how the fuck did you pull your wife?

how the fuck can someone that hot be with someone that fucking not?

i thought jill was fucking mad agreeing to be your wife (though i still think shes a scientist and this is all some evil fucking experiment) but now she thinks this pile of shit can have deeper meaning in your shared lives is plain fucking delusional. 

seriously campbell, this post should be over on jillyism because its definitely the freakiest thing shes said. 

but youre a crafty fucking fox campbell because you write openly about love, loss and pain so anyone who takes the piss becomes an instant arsehole and even i cant do that because this is about real life and not planning or advertising wank.

i still think jill is mental but the reasoning is grade a twisted gold and for helping me learn a little bit more about how to deal with shit id rather not ever fucking deal with, ill let this one pass. 

youre a fucking sweet soft bastard campbell but even if theres times id like to throw you down a sewer and let you suffer slowly over weeks, youre my sweet soft bastard.

now just tell me how you hypnotise your wife to think this way and all the other shit between us is in the fucking past. 

Comment by andy@cynic

Yep, Jill’s fit isn’t she?

Comment by northern

look at the casanova of the north trying to come over all fucking john terry.

Comment by andy@cynic

did wieden sack you? no of course he didnt, youre such a flukey fuck hes probably taken you to his hairy bosom, added a few zeros to your fucking already extravagant salary and changed the company name to w+k+c.

worse. c+w+k

you have got to teach me that hypnosis shit you pull an dont tell me you dont, theres literally no other possible explanation.

Comment by andy@cynic

No. In fact I spent an hour telling the founder of the agency of the year – and one of adlands genuine icons – just how he could improve his business.

Which means I’ll get sacked later today.

But what a way to go …

Comment by Rob

By the way …

Look into my eyes, not around my eyes …

Comment by Rob

You write this blog and get a wife like that and I don’t cause any pain to the humanity and all I get is a bottle of hand lotion and an old copy of Hustler.

Life is fucking unfair.

Comment by Billy Whizz

thems the fucking breaks calluses boy.

Comment by andy@cynic

If I ignore that you have a babe for a wife and she says this blog has some deeper meaning, this was a really sweet post Rob.

Comment by Billy Whizz

Thanks Billy.

The secret is not having the personality of a dead badger.

Glad to have helped.

Comment by Rob

I’m finding it hard to ignore you have a babe for a wife and she says this blog has some deeper meaning.

Hypnosis? I always thought it was he was one of satans henchmen.

Comment by Billy Whizz

if he was with satan, hed of negotiated good looks into the bargain. he might be stupid, but hes not that fucking stupid.

Comment by andy@cynic

Good point. It’s definitely hypnosis then.

Comment by Billy Whizz

And my contributions will be here to enlighten and delight her for ever. Win win.

Comment by John

dont think youll have people fawning over this fucking comment like they did yesterday doddsy.

Comment by andy@cynic

I can only work with what campbell writes about.

Comment by John

so youre saying a good worker does blame the tool.

Comment by andy@cynic

You’re here all week?

Comment by John

sadly yes.

where the fuck is campbell? has dan the man come to his fucking senses?

Comment by andy@cynic

I made the fatal error of reading this out to Sarah. My next decision is whether I go with love letters or blogging. Having read what this act could mean to someone in later life, it doesn’t feel like so much pressure.

Comment by Pete

why not write love letters and put them on a blog. that way we can all have a good fucking laugh.

Comment by andy@cynic

Have you made her a CD of ‘Rob Campbell’s Greatest Session Guitar Hits’ yet?

Comment by Rob Mortimer

apart from being able to do that by buying “thats what i call shit music #3” theres a limit to how far the boundaries of jills love can go.

Comment by andy@cynic

She puts up with Jillyisms, surely she can take a few 80’s b-sides??

Comment by Rob Mortimer

Good post. Good man.

Comment by Lee Hill

I’m not sure whether to take a Freudian seat behind or a Jungian seat in front. Did you get me email?

Comment by Charles Frith

i have to admit that i like you a bit more after this post. hell, you even got me to comment which is something i barely do. anyway, damn good post, brother.

Comment by anibal casso

I popped by today to try & kill a few mins of a pretty boring afternoon reading the bollocks that you all go on & on about (ads, ads, ads, blah blah blah…) but I had no idea that you were writing about this…

So having just wiped away a tear as I sit in my beige cubicle… I just wanted say it’s true – for me this blog is like a safety deposit box of “you”, and I love it because when I read the things you write, I can actually hear your voice…

Admittedly, sometimes you say things that make me want to slap you….

Comment by Jill

Sealing Campbell in a hermetically-sealed vault. That’s brilliant thinking Jill.

Comment by John


Comment by Carol L. Weinfeld

dear jill of the future, I promise all the swearing and the pisstaking and the blah, blah, blah was all part of also thinking rob is awesome.
even if we also want to slap him upside the head sometimes. 🙂

dear rob of the present, and i thought my airport breakfast was sugary…

Comment by lauren

This is interesting as I have an Moleskine slowly filling up with letters to my son, about what I’m feeling and what I’m doing (strangely, nothing about Youporn). Never thought of blogs in that respect, but you have a point. No matter how hard one tries, the real you eventually comes out.
I’ll have to kill the links on my blog so my descendants can’t find what I say on here…….

Comment by northern

Moleskine. Typical!

Comment by John

Thankyou negative nancy

Comment by northern

Pah! I’m sure the content will be treasured but it will be interesting to see how the young man reacts to the artifact

Comment by John

And fyi, I was being very positive about you yesterday.

Comment by John

Eh? Who did you have to defend me in front of? There are too many detractors to possibly pinpoint

Comment by northern

Even if you lie, it just means the lies are part of the real you.

Comment by Rafik

what the fuck are you trying to say rafik?

Comment by andy@cynic

I meant that whatever he portrayed when trying to hide the real him, was still a part of the real him.

still doesn’t make sense? Didn’t think so :-/

Comment by Rafik

I was a bit more predictable I think, I went through all the stages Kubler-Ross had prescribed. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It comes in various shapes and sizes and despite sounding like it commoditizes death & dying, it does not.

With my grandfather I never really knew what hit us till it hit us and he went and I started from there. With my mum, because she was diagnosed about 5-6 months before she actually died, by the time she passed away I was already accepting the fact that nothing could have kept her alive although it was excruciating at that point. After 2 years it started to sink in but it makes you realise that however brave you think you are, you need a few boxes of Kleenex to go through films you thought were for pathetic saps who couldn’t control their feelings. And I’m not talking Lassie or Up here, but even things like ‘Love and Other Drugs’.

The same way children make even crappy Christmas lights feel like a wonderful experience (kudos Northern), the same way the smallest triggers make you cry rivers when no one’s looking.

We confuse the two, horribly so. What’s depression and what’s a bit of sadness every now and then? It says a lot that in the US more people die from prescription drugs than recreational medicine. However pulling up your socks to make others feel better isn’t for everyone, not at the same time.

Comment by andrea

I forgot to mention that I read and keep all the emails she’s ever sent me so IT’S TRUE.

Comment by andrea

Not sure how I can comment on this really.
It’s very sweet.

Comment by Rob Mortimer

seems you touched a nerve with this campbell. or youve mastered the skill of group hypnosis by blogging. maybe you are satans henchfucker after all.

Comment by andy@cynic

You have a beautiful wife.

I have lost people I love. When this happens, from my experience, it is healthy to tell people that you are not OK. No one can expect me to face a bitter reality, and this is what I think one has to do for the pain to start fading away; and pretending that I am OK, which means investing energy; just because they are not willing to deal with the mere surface of my reality which definitley is less painful for them than for me. I would not go and just cry in anyone’s face. But no, I am not OK. No, I am not having a great day. Deal with it you self-centered numbnut. I think this old lady should have included anger, not ony depression and grief. Anger towards people who miss out on sensibility and empathy.
When I have old photos or things falling into my hands, I always feel sad and happy at the same time. The sad part is why I have to force myself to look. Even though I often think of them without the sadness, holding things in my hands reminds me that the physical connection is no longer there, I guess.

Comment by Evolution

[…] cat and a karate chop in the windpipe from the wife and I want this post to be something she can [one day] treasure, not bring up whenever she’s is angry at […]

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