So now it’s going to be my 2nd Xmas without my husband, Freddy, the love of my life, he didn’t do Christmas, i was always the one who bought cards and gifts for his family, still do, now he’s gone, but his bah humbug ritual was a part of the Christmas experience.

I miss the the man who just loved me, warts and all, who tilted his head and gave a huge smile every time i walked into a room, who couldn’t walk down the street without my hand in his, who gave me strength, courage and pride in myself, after years of being made to feel worthless as a woman and a mother.

Received  wisdom is that by now i should be ‘adapting’ to my loss. Do you know what?

I’m not.

It gets harder, i wake up at stupid o’clock and relive his last moments, all the things i should have said and done, i relive all the times i let him down over the years of his slow dying.

I ache for the warmth and comfort of his body next to mine in bed, i miss his deep rumbling voice, his music, his laughter, his constant messages of love to me when we were apart for any length of time, his patience when i vented my day, and that he always knew when to just listen, and when to say the right thing.

I hate coming home every day to an empty house, waking up and knowing that this is the rest of my life, a void without my Freddy.

I find myself struggling to socialise, because, even though most times i went out on my own, he was there when i got home, waiting for stories of my night, and now he’s not there.

And then there is the way people react. At first, i was determined that i would go out, interact, be normal, and people were ok with that i thought, and that is what Freddy said he wanted

But it’s hard, i’m in a dark cold place, and most people don’t want to even acknowledge my loss, they are uncomfortable, their eyes slide sideways if i mention his name, they change the subject or just move away. It makes them feel uncomfortable, awkward, they don’t want to know. To be fair, there are a couple of exceptions, and i thank them xx

And now i’m becoming a hermit, i don’t want to interact with anyone, the slightest thing will reduce me to tears, a sound, a word, an image, an unbidden thought, i have to fight to not fall apart.

Someone the other day said “are you Freddy’s widow?” I automatically said wife… then had to run and hide and cry because that word was like a knife through my chest, and …..

I have to start getting used to the fact, i know, that for my friends/acquaintances he is in the past, and so for them, its of no consequence, he is fading rapidly from their memories, and i have to get a grip.

Not yet though, for now, being in our home, even though i can’t face the Bat cave, getting up, going to work, pretending to be OK, that will have to do.

It’s our work Christmas do tomorrow, i sooo don’t want to go, i’ve gone over 50 excuses in my head to cry off, i don’t want to interact, to be what my colleagues think i am, to laugh and joke and be ‘happy’ but that’s part of the facade we, the widows, have to present to make the rest of the world feel comfortable with our presence