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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
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You don’t have to present anything! Just don’t go. Tell them you can’t go because you can’t face it! If your colleagues are friends too they’ll understand if they’re not then bollocks!
We are an uncomfortable truth but the truth is easier on you than the effort of a facade x
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