My Shrek moment.

After my rant here yesterday I felt much better. I often wonder in the days that follow whether I should delete those posts that were a flash in the pan, a very quick moment of anger or sadness soon forgotten. I have mostly decided to let them stay. Yesterday was actually important in that it reminded me of how awful life with Tall's illnesses could be sometimes. Even if I should never have felt the way I did, the fact is that I did. The paralysing panic that I felt so many mornings, evenings and nights, the panic only relenting once I was on my way to see how he was for myself. Of course I should have been more trusting of the medical staff, but unfortunately events the very first time Tall was admitted coloured my reactions for every other admission. That very first time Tall was in horrendous pain, he had asked for paracetamol and five hours later when I arrived for visiting he still hadn't had any. The line was drawn and I never trusted the system again. 

Today I miss Tall because we are in the middle of a storm. A fence panel has already been lost and the forecast is that the winds will be here for another ten hours, who knows what else might go. I miss having a second pair of hands and a second opinion. As I type it I realise that the Tall I miss is the Tall that was fit and healthy. The Tall from before 2017, the one that put decking down with me, the one who could cut the hedges and take part in life. I'm sad that Tall had to go through two years of not being the man he wanted to be. The frustration he felt would make him angry and he was often sad, although he wouldn't admit it, he always wanted be be seen as the optimist. As time passes I am able to see the multiple layers of my grief for what they are. As Shrek would say "Ogres are like onions. Onions have layers and ogres have layers." Grief is like an onion too.