A single chop, one potato cut up. Green veg. It must be the worst day of the week.
We always had full Sunday dinner. Now only if my son and his family call round but that is decreasing as the better weather lets them get out and about. Now I just sit with a small bowel of whatever I have remembered to defrost from the freezer.
Also invited my son and family round for Easter Sunday dinner. Was quite upset as they could not see the significance of the occasion. Since his dad’s death my son rejects almost everything that has religous significance but the Easter weekend was a big occasion for me and husband. Serves as another reminder that the things me and husband held dear are never going to be the same and I suspect that I will be alone on Easter Sunday.
He feels more than he can say.
I suspect your right. I wish I could help him, but cannot help myself.
No. I know exactly how you feel. I go to bed, as it’s the only place I feel less pain. I sleep and I forget while I’m asleep. Awful isn’t it?
It is an awful life now. Sleep and time spent with our grandson are the only distractions from the pain. With the lighter days approaching I find myself thinking of ways to just cut myself off from the outside world.
My wife always loved to do a sunday dinner. Since she passed in August I can’t bear sundays any more. My son in law did a lovely roast dinner for me when I stayed there until the funeral. Since being back home I just haven’t been able to face doing one just for myself. Then lickdown happened again. Life has been miserable for months, she was my reason for living.
Hi Malc, my wife of 43 years passed away July 2019. She also liked to cook a roast on Sunday, like you I couldn’t face one on my own. What would be the point. It’s usually something out of the freezer for me. I am always glad when Sunday is over and it’s time for bed.
I am so sorry that you have lost your wife and find yourself on this dreadful journey.
Myself and husband had dinners regularly throughout the week and the best joint on a Sunday. When we first got married my husband won the meat-draw at work for 13 weeks and thereafter I went to the same local butchers until they closed. I don’t know how to do any other meals to be honest, except perhaps a chilli. So most of the time I do without or open a can of soup.
Sometimes I cannot recall what day of the week it is, they all just blur into one now. It is usually the sound of the neighbours lawnmowers going that tells me it is a Sunday and serves as another reminder that my husband is not here. We were not big gardeners but I will have to somehow start doing this job myself now.
Everything just serves as a constant reminder of what we have lost.
Hi, yes, Sunday is now a day I just hate, Saturday is not much better because that was the day she passed, though we did have many good ones. Now, every day is much like the last. The tears arrive at random.
Thank you Sheila.