So this has been playing on my mind.
For a long while after Paula died my mind would replay the day of her death. It all felt very real, a little more than a memory. It was awful, I’d get overwhelmed.
It took a while, and this may sound a little odd. Whilst the memory was very real, the emotions on the day were not what I was feeling.
Paula took 2 days to die. The first day was awful. Lots of Dr’s, medical staff, all saying very little. At the same time seeming very busy working around her.
I was overwhelmed. I sat with as much as I could but kept leaving the room to break down and cry. In truth I have never been so terrified. I feel I let her down. She was dieing, the love of my life and the person who had stood by me when at times I didn’t deserve it. She deserved better.
The next day was very different. I sat with her and only left the room when the medical staff needed the space to work around her.
I spent the day holding her hand, later holding her as best I could. She cracked a joke and we laughed, we made plans for a future that would never happen, she told me she loved me and I told her how much I loved her. I was with when she died. And for that I am incredibly grateful. As I know this is not always the case.
The day she died there was no fear. There was only the love we shared. It was peaceful and calm.
The fear came very rapidly afterwards as I dived head first into grief.
If I had to describe grief it would be a roller coaster of very raw emotions. But at it’s heart is love. The love for paula. And it is that love that grows around the pain of the loss. I even wonder if loss is the wrong word. The love is still there. Only changed in some way.
This has been on my mind for quite some time. And I’ve felt the need to talk to someone about it. But there is no one.
I’m a bloke that isn’t normally very good at dealing with emotions. Let alone talk about them.
Thanks for listening.