So, I chose to start this blog, as I used to love writing. Still do, but life just got in the way. And I am the master of procrastination… Then lockdown, then 2020 just appeared to be one long queuing system and Zoom calls…. 2021 arrived and….
March 24th, we both left for work and only one of us returned home. The worst day of my life, it took Mike from me, no warning, no idea, just an urgent call from the hospital, an urgent dash to the hospital, to arrive too late… “I’m sorry but…”
Here I am 3 months later and the reality of what’s happened still feels like its happening to someone else. My life has become this strange, unreal, reality. I feel like I am living another life and watching this one from somewhere else. How can you compute what has happened when there were no signs, no warning, no conversation, no real end…too many things left unsaid, too many unknowns, too many unfulfilled plans… too many what ifs?
I didn’t plan on becoming a widow at 52…no one does, but it doesn’t ‘fit’ the life plans, there is no manual of what to do next. No one can tell you how things will work out, as Mike’s death has shown me, that you cannot plan with any certainty, there should always be a caveat, a ‘something else’ in brackets. I’m just not certain what that looks like… that ‘something else’…
#grief
Not Ready for Cardigans 