I’m not sure why I wanted to write this, maybe to remind myself of how things have changed in the past 15 months, and perhaps to show others in this situation we find ourselves in, that there is a way to find moments of joy amongst the darkness.
On 10 October 2022, my amazing husband Chris died only 25 days following diagnosis of small cell lung cancer.
We were together for 28 truly wonderful years. He was my everything in this world and I miss him with every beat of my heart.
I really don’t know how I’ve got to this point. The day he died was the most challenging day of my life, but was also a day filled with unimaginable love as he shared his last breath and heartbeat with me. I held him tight and talked about our love story, our life of adventures and how honoured I was that he picked me to share his life and love with.
I could barely function following that day. I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want food and really don’t remember any of the conversations I had with the friends who supported me during that time. Somehow though I organised Chris’ funeral and celebration of life, I found the strength to read the words I had written and honoured our love.
Only a few weeks after the funeral it would have been our 20th wedding anniversary, then followed Christmas and New Year. Again, that period of time is a blur. I was distraught, numb and so very, very scared.
When my birthday came around I found myself in the darkest of places in my mind. How was I supposed to care about the day when the one person I wanted at my side was no longer there? I spiralled further and further into the darkness, trying to cope on my own with looking after myself, my home and trying to work in a job that I no longer cared about.
Still, I kept going. Every day more difficult than the next until at six months I knew I needed help and reached out for counselling. I was diagnosed with PTSD and there followed heart wrenching discussions delving deep into the darkness of my mind. The therapy I had was the thing that enabled me to make sense of this new world I found myself thrust into – one I didn’t ask for and certainly didn’t want, but what was the alternative? I could either give up and wither away, but what would that achieve? It would have been an insult to Chris and his desire to live a good life and would also have been a greater insult to the 28 years we spent together always wanting the best for each other. I made the decision to keep fighting, to try and find some purpose.
It was impossible to be the person I was before Chris. I was 17½ when we got together, and found myself at the age of 45 a widow, scared, broken, and not knowing who I was anymore.
I first made the decision to quit my job. It was making me emotionally unstable and I couldn’t cope. This enabled me to try and find a new routine at home, a boring routine of household chores, eating a meal and sleeping, but one which I knew I had to do to survive.
Little by little over the next months I started to go out with friends during the daytime, just for a bite to eat or a brew. This gave me the strength to start engaging with the world again.
I also signed up to this forum and met a group of people who have become friends. A truly supportive tribe, where we share sadness, tears, but much laughter.
Every day was still a fight to carry on but fight I did. It wasn’t until I hit the 12-month anniversary of Chris’ death that I felt a shift in motivation. Slowly I started to rediscover my hobbies, those things which had always been my hobbies and uniquely mine. Others which we had shared I realised I had to leave behind – those were part of the “we” and not “me”.
I knew I had to do more to re-engage with the world and discover the person I am becoming and want to be. I took the plunge and booked a music concert, only one ticket so it would be me and the music. I also booked to stay in a hotel overnight alone. It took so much out of me emotionally that night and when I come home, I spoke out loud to Chris, saying “I did it my love. I hope you are proud of me for trying and not giving up”.
I have now been to other concerts, staying overnight each time. I have also booked other events, some with friends but mostly ones where I’ll be alone. I find myself laughing with friends, enjoying days out, enjoying my own company and not feeling guilty for doing so.
I am proud of myself for carrying on and trying to find a new path in life. More than anything I wish I didn’t have to and would love my old life back. I loved my life, loved Chris, and never imagined I would be without him.
Sadly, I know that I can’t have my old life so day by day I keep going, keep trying to discover new things about me but also realising that underneath my deep, deep sadness I am still me. Still the person Chris loved with all his heart.
I am not saying that anything is easier. I don’t believe time is a healer as there are some wounds that can never heal. My heart has been left with a Chris-shaped hole; nothing can ever fill that.
I struggle and get overwhelmed but keep fighting. Determined that something good has to come out of this. Grief has taken so much away from me, but I’m determined that it will not take my life and will not steal the things from me which give me joy. Yes, I still cry every night when I say goodnight to my love, but that it is the price to pay for loving someone so deeply. I am privileged to have known such love.
All I really wanted to say is keep fighting, it’s the hardest fight. We can let grief in, and lean into it. We can be torn apart by it, left reeling from the brutality of it all, but we cannot let it win.
Chris will forever be with me, the light in the darkness and the handprint on my heart until the moment my heart ceases to beat.
Wishing moments of peace and tranquillity to all. Rachael xx
