I met him when I was 19<\/p>\n
We had lately arrived in what I considered to be the back of beyond, miles from anywhere, I was livid at having had to leave my home at such a complicated age, I had moved away from my friends, the place I had grown up, in the days before communication was so easy. This wasn\u2019t the first time I\u2019d had to start again.\u00a0 <\/span>It seemed that every couple of years something changed.\u00a0 <\/span>School, home, country, language.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m not afraid of a challenge so I took my sister and my dog and went to the local pub. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I had seen him before, he came to the place I was working to see his mate.\u00a0 <\/span>He hadn\u2019t noticed me, in the corner behind the word processor but I remember that day, his bright green eyes, his coal black hair, his cocky assuredness.<\/p>\n I made myself a new dress with a big pocket for our tiny dog with the idea that someone is bound to ask me why there\u2019s a dog in my pocket, thus giving me the opportunity to make a new friend.\u00a0 \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n It was Rickie, he was the one who noticed me and I remember his first words.<\/p>\n You\u2019re a bit of a freaky chick, aren\u2019t you?<\/p>\n We married eighteen months later.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t all moonlight and roses, too opinionated, just out of childhood, with totally opposing views on absolutely everything. Our arguments in the early days were spectacular but making up was more fun.<\/p>\n He lost his father in 1988, Rickie told me his father was going to die and the worst thing would be that he would never see our children.\u00a0 <\/span>I can fix that I thought and threw my pills in the bin.\u00a0 <\/span>The next morning I saw the error of my ways and decided to start the next packet as soon as I got my period.\u00a0 <\/span>I never did, our daughter was born in March.\u00a0 <\/span>Sadly his father died on November the 27th, he never did meet her.\u00a0 <\/span>Two boys followed and our family of five was complete.<\/p>\n We did what most families do, we worked hard to make ends meet and it was a struggle but we were happy. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Now he is gone.<\/p>\n I was looked after, carefree, supported and loved, I had freedom to think, feel and do as I pleased, secure in the knowledge that my one person always had my back and I had his.<\/p>\n Does it matter how he died? Does it matter that I waited until 12.50 every day for 15 days for my one permitted call to the hospital to find out how he was doing? Does it matter that for 2 days he improved?\u00a0 <\/span>Does it matter that I knew when he died?\u00a0 <\/span>I felt it. \u00a0I felt him leave me, a pressure built up inside me so big that I found myself pacing around the room and shouting at him to fight until there was a sudden release, a peace, a stillness. \u00a0I knew when the phone call came ten minutes later. \u00a0I was calm for that moment.\u00a0 <\/span>I couldn’t say goodbye. \u00a0I couldn’t go to his cremation. \u00a0My family could not come to me until he was gone. \u00a0And no-one prepares you for the complete physicality, the pain of loss, the inability to stand, to hold your body upright, to breathe, to speak, the screaming, the total unfairness of it all, the rock on your chest, in your throat, in your brain.<\/p>\n He was 57 years old and I thought we would grow old together.<\/p>\n We made it through the first Christmas, he hasn\u2019t been gone a month until tomorrow. There\u2019s such a big space without him here.<\/p>\n The pain is not so consistent now, it ebbs and flows in waves, sometimes violent, sometimes gentle, always unexpected, triggered by the smallest things.\u00a0 <\/span>Bursting into tears in Waitrose when someone says happy Christmas, opening the jam I made with the apricots he froze when he was stuck in Corfu and I was stuck in England. Who would have imagined then that he wouldn\u2019t be here to eat it.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019ll never again see the pride on his face when he cooked me a meal and it was delicious.<\/p>\n The sadness in the eyes of my children is the hardest thing to bear, I\u2019m the mother and I can\u2019t make it better, I can\u2019t bring him back.<\/p>\n It doesn\u2019t matter what you say as long as you say something<\/p>\n Here I find myself two months on, living in my mother\u2019s house with my youngest son.\u00a0 <\/span>I am at a crossroads.\u00a0 <\/span>I have contacted the appropriate authorities to find our investments and money, I have a house in Corfu, empty and waiting for me to come back and I feel it calling me, the pull is getting stronger every day.\u00a0 <\/span>Owing to travel restrictions I can\u2019t go anywhere at the moment but I feel I have a choice. I could give the money to the children and go and live my life in Corfu but then I will have left my grandson.<\/p>\n Knowing you will never again be held by someone who loves you best, you have empty arms and a weight in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t want to spend the entirety of my days living a life that other people want me to live, I so want to choose my own path.<\/p>\n I started therapy yesterday, 24th February<\/p>\n Saw a headline today, granny tackles bag snatcher<\/p>\n I shall get chickens and ten cats I\u2019ve already starting knitting so I shall have tea cosies for my head<\/p>\n I\u2019m writing you a letter to thank you for your time.<\/p>\n For days and weeks and months and years<\/p>\n For tantrums tears and smiles<\/p>\n We crossed a lot of bridges<\/p>\n We didn\u2019t \u2018wait \u2019til later\u2019<\/p>\n But lived the here and now\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n We made each other happy\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Never really knowing how<\/p>\n We didn\u2019t make a plan or map out our future<\/p>\n We lived and loved and built a family of strength and joy<\/p>\n My heart is surely broken but I will survive<\/p>\n You taught me well and carefully\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I hope I make you proud.<\/p>\n How lucky I am to have had something that makes saying goodbye so hard<\/p>\n Spoke to financial advisor today, I\u2019m not going to starve for that I thank you.<\/p>\n Do not say that he has passed<\/p>\n Do not ask if I have lost my husband?<\/p>\n He is not lost, I did not leave him in Sainsbury\u2019s<\/p>\n This brutal disease<\/p>\n Stole him<\/p>\n He is dead<\/p>\n The world keeps turning\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I have to put one foot in front of another<\/p>\n But do not feel that I am gossamer\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n There is nothing you can say to make things worse<\/p>\n And your words cannot make it better<\/p>\n Walk by my side and do not judge me<\/p>\n I will survive.<\/p>\n I am a glass half full kind of girl but I find I do not function quite so well when my glass is taken away and my life spills out all over the place<\/p>\n I bought a handbag today, and some sheets for my first house alone.<\/p>\n Good things about being a widow;<\/p>\n Not shaving armpits – are we French? Nothing else.<\/p>\n World has not stopped turning because you\u2019re not in it<\/p>\n First day on my own since \u00a0last December<\/p>\n They tell you they haven\u2019t invited you because they didn\u2019t think you\u2019d be up for it but the truth is that they don\u2019t want to see you, they don\u2019t know what to say to you. They are worried that you\u2019ll bring down the mood.\u00a0 <\/span>Especially the people who so clearly wish it had not been you who\u2019d survived.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n You don\u2019t only lose your partner, you lose the security of happiness, friendship and love. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n My grandma gave me whisky glasses and told me keep a little bit of my heart protected just in case, I should have listened.<\/p>\n I bought new Dr Martens today not quite the same as the boots I was wearing when I met you, these are covered in flowers not studs, I didn\u2019t make my own dress but the dog wouldn\u2019t fit in my pocket anyway.\u00a0 <\/span>I was going to wear our Italian shoes but they didn\u2019t match.\u00a0 <\/span>Look how far I\u2019ve come that I care about coordinating.<\/p>\n