I have been writing a post here for three hours and then I realised it was way too long for anyone to bother reading (at least 3 A4 sides) so I deleted it. I have been thinking about my life 9 weeks ago and how totally blissful it was compared to the neck-high dogsh!t I spend my days wading through now.
How can one person make so much difference. Should I have been much more self-reliant, I was obviously a princess as very simple things I cannot do. He helped me with every single aspect of my life except for wiping my bum. I seriously canāt think of anything else I always did myself without any help or guidance from him.
Also how can one strong healthy man who used to lift things for me, die like this. For our 15th Wedding Anniversary in September this year weād taken a week off work, as we do every year and went on day trips every day (other years sometimes we went on holiday but we always booked the week off to celebrate our anniversary). One of those days we went to Llangollen as weād (heād but I liked it because he liked it) started a thing of trying to visit as many castles in the UK as possible over the rest of our life, we wanted to walk up to Dinas Bran, the ruined castle up the hill.
We were walking and it was quite a warm sunny day and I was getting tired so asked if we could sit on a bench. We did and then were overtaken by an older couple, he joked to me that if they can do it surely we can, we carried on but then I had to say to him I canāt go all the way up the hill, can we go back and try another timeā¦ he was disappointed as he was raring to go but I just couldnāt so we walked back and went home. He could have walked up that hill if i was not weighing him down. Now heāll never get to go up it and the book of castles I bought us to work through over the rest of our life he never had looked at. He was healthier and stronger than me so why him.
A month later he was suddenly dying in my arms of a heart attack. He did all the right things, went to the dr, ate healthily (he took over the cooking this year and kept trying to persuade me we should have a green smoothie only week, i wish we hadā¦), got on his treadmill 5 mins of every hour of the working day. Our weekends and days off were always a nature walk. Our only real vice was a drink in the evenings (especially on Friday we always had āHappy Hourā at home making cocktails together and it lasted around 4 hours!) but most evenings it was only a drink or two. He had been clearing out our alcohol cupboard with all these weird spirits we had that had been there for years so he would make us an āalcopopā each evening as he called it from one of them with lemonade, most recent was cherry brandy and lemonade and that was a favourite.
Now, I sleep in the bed with my mother. I donāt need to anymore but she is still too worried about me as I am not a good enough actor yet but I am learning. I got up had a shower whilst she was here so i could let her out as she cannot operate the doorlock he installed on our front door (like most things in our house he installed something special, i also used to struggle with it so he always did the door on the way in and out and my key was like new and stiff in the lock after he died and i had to start using it).
After smiling and waving her off i go to bed or another room and cry heaving sobs. Then I write for hours useless crap I end up deleting because i dont have editing in me or i listen to music or i weep until i sleep. Very occasionally I have a moment of being human and do something useful. Just now my dr phoned me (i never had a dr i could call āmy drā before, usually whoever is available) and told me he thinks i might need some long term depression drugs as itās maybe not grief anymore but depression. I have to do a questionnaire he texted me now and that is the most excitement all day.
Bloody hell it turned out really long again but shorter than last time.
How was your life before and after, what kind of routine did you have and do you now have?
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