Thanks to all of you for your wishes and my sympathies to you, Learnergran. Unlike you, Learnergran, I did not get rid of Ken's clothes. They are all still there. My son, who lives in the same village, says there is no hurry. He says the same about his dad's ashes, says I can hang on to them until I'm ready to join him. I'm 63. Ken was 65, and Ageuk had just helped us get some extra DLA to help with finances.
Actually, Learnergran, when I go away I take his dressing gown with me instead of my own. I also take his slippers in case I need to wear any, as I do not have any of my own. It helps that we had the same size feet.
There is a charity near us called Lifespan and they visit people with lifethreatening illnesses and give massage and talk. One of them used to massage Ken's feet until he fell asleep. She still comes to see me and talk and massage my shoulders to get rid of the tension. She's actually the only one of the care team who visits me. I have not heard from the Macmillan nurse or the GP surgery. It's as if now I'm no longer a carer, I'm nobody to them, but I am to Lifespan.
I have had to take my granddaughter to the surgery 3 times lately and each time I have tears streaming down my face. I used to have to go there at least once a week with Ken. They all knew him, but do not seem to connect me with him any more.
Glassortwo, his seat is in the picnic area near Pockerley Manor, if you go to Beamish. I once went there with my grandson and there was a family sitting having a picnic in front of the seat, so we went over and explained and they asked us to join them. We often wondered what would happen if someone was sitting on Grandad's seat when we got there. Now we know.