It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here, I read what people are saying every day, but seem to lack the energy to reply – sorry about that.
Anyway, June passed 12 months ago tomorrow. Officially she died on the 17th, but I found her unconscious on the 12th. We’d been together 48 years, married 45 – childhood sweethearts.
I can’t believe it’s 12 months. It feels longer and shorter. Like for everyone else, Covid has virtually eliminated contact with people, and I think I prefer that. Our friends started a weekly Zoom meeting when all this kicked off, and after June went, they were great, but recently they’re focused on holidays and meeting up and returning to normal socialising and I don’t want to.
I have cancelled my acceptance to the wedding of a good friend’s son in Sept as I don’t know how I’d be without June there. I’ve also told them I won’t be attending the next meal out that’s arranged (whenever that’ll be). No-one tried to talk me out of either decision.
There have been one or two thoughtless comments – “oh, you really did love her” – no, I Love here, present not past tense, and “you deserve to be happy again” – really, how do I accomplish that? And of course, “you seem to be doing ok, glad you’re getting over it” – I’m not doing well and not getting over “it” (and don’t want too either). I bite my tongue and say nothing, telling myself they mean well and don’t know what to say. (I’m the first in our long-established group to loose someone). Although I do wonder if it’s because they think I should be able to get back to how I was and stop making them feel they have to be sad for me – sorry, must try to be the better person.
Two months ago I had treatment for cancer, but when it was offered I had to think seriously about accepting it. The only reason I dtook it is my 40-year-old daughter, it would hurt too much if she lost her dad so soon after her mum. I must admit, when I was told I had it, I did think that it wouldn’t be too long until I was with June again.
So, I’m still here. The big thing is that in the last couple of weeks I’ve managed to think about (and talk to), June without breaking down in tears. I do have to draw breath, but at least the sobbing seems less. The hurt is the same, and I still cry every day.
I apologise if all this reads like a ‘poor-me’ rant, it’s not meant to be, it’s just how I’m feeling on her anniversary – they used to be occasions for celebration, not any more.
Take care all, Dave