Thank you Doodle for your empathy and kindness. I find myself wondering if Iām doing this āgrief thingā all wrong. I doubt myself. On a few days (busy with admin) when I havenāt cried, Iāve thought āsurely this is wrong for someone I loved so very muchā.
I think ought I to dwell upon the last godawful months more, which upset me greatly? Then I know I will cry.
Or do I swerve it, count my blessings remembering how lucky was I to be loved by my Mr Wonderful for 54 years? Some people are not anything like so fortunate so (my head tells me) ābe grateful, stay strong as he would have wishedā.
But then.
I think back. How utterly valiant he was in facing down his cancer. His bravery, both mental and physical for 3 years. His hopes, which became cruelly dashed those last ten fraught months when we distanced himself utterly, immunocompromised and overly cautious not to catch anything that might thwart his iv chemotherapy treatments. . How he never complained, not even once. How he bore living with an oesophageal stent with all its privations when food became problematic and I would cry hot tears in Sainsburyās worrying what I could buy for him to eat and try to help him gain some much needed weight.
Then I do cry. The tears trip me up and I remember too clearly the worst of times. Ringing the crisis line, the 999 ambulance trips in the wee small hours, the admission one time with sepsis. How he struggled with gastric secretions which kept worsening as his cancer grew exponentially.
Ach, I doubt myself constantly. Ought into dwell on these times and bawl my eyes out or try to take joy in living as he wanted me to? I worry Iām doing this āwrongā.
Iāve agreed to the MacMillan suggestion of counselling. Iāve been told what I went through for ten months is known as āanticipatory griefā. My nerves were shredded, my anxiety was off the Richter scale. I feared the end as I watched and indeed witnessed signs of it. My heart was breaking, before it finally, finally broke completely just over 3 weeks ago.
Apologies for this lengthy outpouring of my emotions. I feel unmoored and hollowed out. I can only think that time is a great healer and I must trust and be patient. And kind to myself.
Himself would approve of that part, of this I do have certainty.
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