For some reason or other this is the day I have been hoping wouldn’t come but, come it has and when I look back over the last year I am so thankful for the support I have had, the words, actions, cards and caring from so many people. In real life there are many who have been there this year and now I also have a selection of Twitter friends who have made this a bearable year in new ways. These virtual friends are special in a different way but they are no less valued and no less caring in their constant messages, comments and support. One year since my Selina didn’t make it into the Hospice, one year since the heart was torn from our family and one year of pain, sorrow and great change. This year, 2019, has been particularly bad with its constant daily remembrances of Selina’s last days, the ambulance, A&E, the fight, the weariness, the fading but, I will never forget the afternoon before she died when she was surrounded by her family and her oldest friends; she was resigned, she was as happy as possibly and looking forwards to some peace. The whole year has been one of change for me as I sort out how to do things and change my life from a double to a single one. Recently I have, at last, accepted that for a while now I have been in a mild depression and so am doing something about it via a course of therapy, it goes well and I am finding it very useful and, as you might expect, therapeutic. I’ve had a few holidays and have spoilt myself with things like clothes, technology and living well; this will probably be cut back soon, not the living, the spoiling! Nothing however can fill the empty side of the bed, the empty sofa every evening or the empty chair at breakfast and nothing will ever fill the empty space in my heart. A bad year, a bad week and a bad day but a day I will spend with my two sons as we remember their mam, the one who always put us three first in everything. We miss you so much but it is what it is. Love you.
Having spent New Years Eve 2017 in A&E with Selina on intravenous antibiotics we were then sent home with a prescription. New Years Day began with a hurried search for an open Pharmacy that actually had the antibiotic Selina needed in stock and having found one open in Sunderland I was able to get back to Selina and start her on the course by lunchtime. After a really bad night the next morning began with calling the surgery, a doctor visiting and sending for an ambulance; Selina being admitted to hospital and never leaving means that New Years Day 2018 is the last full day that she spent in this, our home for so many happy years and it was not a good day. Needless to say today is not a good day either and this whole coming period is full of the memories of her fading away in hospital wards and of her very brave but short battle in which a standout and painful moment for me was when, the afternoon before she died, our friend Anne asked if there was anything she could do for her and too weak to speak Selina nodded to me telling Anne to look after me. We all knew what she meant and I am still stunned that her love for me was that strong but then she always put me first. Missing you so much and there is still 10 days to go until it’s one year. Hard times.
The last Photo I have of Selina is this one taken on Christmas day before she died and she was getting better, infections are so dangerous.
This morning I tackled my local Morrisons for a few things. Walking past the dozens and dozens of cars, a veritable stream of steel, all waiting to drive round and round the already full carpark in search of the one elusive space. Inside the store were queues of bulging baskets lined up at every till accompanied by harassed pushers of every age and description, I shopped like a rocket weaving in and out and left as soon as possible – Christmas!
It’s not something I dislike at all, I really like it but, this is my first one without my Selina and the whole thing is boobytrapped with reminders of our times together.
Christmas Eve I used to do constant runs to the shops for this and that and keep returning to a house full of the warm smells of baking, as the worktops groaned with the weight of meat and fruit pies, scones, mince pies and a myriad other things; this year is different, I return to a quiet still and empty house.
Present buying and wrapping is reduced greatly and I do it all.
I have enjoyed putting the decorations up but there is only me to see them. This is all starting to sound a bit glum but having opted to not visit either of my sons for Christmas day itself my plan to have this first Christmas on my own, on my own, has been thwarted! I can’t pretend that I am not pleased this has happened because as the day has drawn closer the memories have too and the thought of sadly sitting alone all day sharing no presents with each other is painful.
I am such a lucky bloke in that two really dear friends have insisted that I go to them for the day. My initial resistance, though weak was definite, but was wiped out by them in a flash. Plans for the day were made in secret to surprise me and shared and changed and altered and finalised and I for one can not wait; I cannot begin to thank these two enough for all they have done over this last year and I Know that they have/will make this as good a Christmas as possible. Bless them both.
As this day, Monday, wears away, I am increasingly aware of the approach of tomorrow. Currently I have an hour and a half to go and I have been having a sort of countdown to tomorrow for the better part of this month. Tuesday, tomorrow or today, whichever, is eleven months to the day that Selina went not to the shops or out with a friend but to God forever. It is strange but, when Selina died in January I seemed to be a lot stronger than I currently am about it and I think that is because of the anaesthetising effect of shock and the adrenaline that keeps you going on auto pilot.As the months have passed I have slowly become more aware of the empty house, the empty rooms and the empty life; an empty life filled with busyness, things to do, people and friends; that last one is most welcome. Looking at things lately I have decided that I am like the colourful skim of oil on top of a pool of water. I live in that thin layer of life floating on top of a deep pool, a pool of emotion, often turbulent, sometimes sorrowful but always full of things that I don’t want, that I don’t understand. The bit you see is the colourful sliver, the I’m doing fine, one day at a time me, the ‘happy’ smiling and fun me, the mask.
I am currently coming up to the last few firsts – My birthday without Selina, Christmas without her and soon the first anniversary of her death. All of these weigh on my mind and I am looking forward to getting past them, I will get past them and I will start to get over things because that is the way life works. The plans for my 70th birthday party this weekend have been abandoned or at least altered drastically (I’m not having one). The approaching festive season will go on and will be enjoyed but in a new way thanks to very good friends. January and the anniversary will be hard but it is what it is. Things are moving in the deep pool under the sliver of colour, things will start to mix together.
Yesterday was a day for rememberance with the centenary of the end of WW1. An emotional day all round and I was in church then down to our small town’s war memorial along with thousands of other folk to honour those who gave everything. Yesterday was hard for me because my tears were for Selina ten months to the day gone. As I sat in church in the morning I couldn’t help but clock watch and as our curate read intercession it approached ten fifteen and as he spoke about prayers for those bereaved the clock hit ten fifteen, the time on Selina’s death certificate. (Death Certificate is an odd name, as if she had won something or passed an exam with flying colours!) The day proceeded to have its ups and downs with the downs being an overwhelming sense of loss; this is becoming more noticeable of late and seems to be showing little or no improvement. I could say missing Selina is becoming harder to bear, perhaps as things settle down the real feelings are surfacing and not being covered over. Yesterday’s ups were drinks, lunch and laughter with special friends as we shared memories of happy times together with Selina and as ever the laughter brought a lift. I value these friends greatly.
As we see from all the rememberance yesterday life goes on for those left behind, those who haven’t yet won their certificate, passed the final exam but, we do not forget, ever and our quiet, silent tears will continue in those moments we turn from the present and look back with much love to those we have lost; they are here now as I type this blurring the screen but as Selina says – it is what it is. Missing you more.
Nine months, three quarters of a year and I still don’t know where that time has gone; what I have been doing since Selina died. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I was left alone before I realised she had gone, forever and was not coming back, at all.I have been remarkably strong over this time, people keep telling me this. I don’t feel strong as I write with a box of tissues to hand and an ever increasing pile of used ones next to me, it’s hard to type through tears. Today I travel home from the wilds of Scotland having visited Selina’s sister and her husband. I’ve had a good time and have been made welcome and have been spoilt by them. They recently moved here to live in a castle! They love it being miles from anywhere but, it’s not for me and wouldn’t have been for Selina. We are/were townies at heart. The busyness and closeness of others is welcomed and while I am thankful for my little break I am ready to drive five hours minimum back to my real world, the one without my love but with all the friends who have done so much to support and help me these past nine months; the ones who will continue to support and help, who make life easier. I have times when Selina slips from my mind and I feel guilty, times when I am distracted by the everyday things and times when I am enjoying myself with friends. These are good times but I must get used to them happening and not feeling so guilty, my brave face needs to become normal and not a mask and I am working at this, I think. 11th Jan 2018 was not a good day but it was at the end of 44 great years, today is not a good day but it is getting better. Miss you Selina, it is what it is.
Next week it will be eight months since Selina died. Eight months and I don’t really know where they have gone; part of me thinks she is still here, just around the corner, in the kitchen or on the couch as I watch the TV. Then the realisation hits and with it the knowledge that she won’t be back. It is not as shocking as it was but is a more deep and meaningful feeling that may take over everything for a short, while giving me leaky eyes, or just come and go quickly. I know things are getting better and that I feel less guilty about being here and enjoying things, less guilty about my thoughts and my shopping sprees! Next week might be difficult because I will not be here at home but in Italy on the holiday we were going to have this year and whilst I know it will be good I am determined not to become emotional about it yet at the same time to be aware that it should have been us not just me.
The last eight months have shown me so much and have helped me to realise the strength found in and through friends both real and digital. I have had, and continue to have, amazing support from my friends and my church but I have found great comfort and friendship from new friends on social media. I use Facebook and keep in touch with friends I know but have found that many of the friends I have made on Twitter are amazing; people from all over the country and beyond showing care in a real and meaningful way, some of them have become closer friends with whom I can share all sorts and who bring lots of fun and enjoyment along with new interests to help fill my time and give a sense of purpose. Without these people I know life would be far less enjoyable. I have also learnt that even though life has been difficult of late, it has been a doddle compared to what others have gone through and are still going through; to the fighters out there, you know who you are, keep being amazing and strong, thank you.
So life changes but it goes on and with it things get better, not will get but do get, have got and will continue to get. Italy will be great and I will post if the WiFi lets me but I am posting this early just in case. Selina will be there with me, in my heart. It is what it is.