The garden

 I have been trying to spend as much time as possible outside when the weather allows. May has so far been the complete opposite of April, he have had days of rain and days of heavy showers with sunny intervals. The temperature has dropped considerably and so for now many of the plants need to stay in the greenhouse. I'm not keen on being out in halestorms either.

The year that Tall died I couldn't bear being in the garden, no matter what the weather. Every tree and plant reminded me of him, of how he would never taste the fruit from the trees or simply sit until the stars were out, enjoying the summer evenings.  In the midst of my grief I couldn't sit outside and i couldn't sit inside, I forever seemed to be wandering between the two, tears streaming down my face. Last year was better, although I didn't know what to do with it other, than cut the grass. I put up the pool and spent a few of the warmer days cooling off in it. Tall loved sitting in the cool water, although it wasn't something he was really able to do after 2017. Unfortunately, in my solo attempt to put it away at the end of the summer, I ended up tearing it, so I don't have one for this year. I think the decking might be better left clear in case I can have people around. This year I am planting hanging baskets for the first time since 2018. I still have to buy more plants and snap-dragons will be one of those that I will buy. Tall loved them. 

I will probably always get a little sad in the garden, Tall created so much of what it is now. Some of it I wish I could change. Maybe next year I will have the greenhouse moved to the wasted space on the drive and use the concrete pad where it sits now as a dining area. I remember back in 2019, a few months after Tall died, that the neighbour across the road, who lost her husband over twenty years  ago, was telling me that she still got sad in the garden. There's something about the continuing of life in the plants that acts as a reminder of the life that is no longer lived. Tall will always be in the trees.

A start

 As part of my attempt this year to make Merry May Memories I have moved my office (okay the laptop) back into the conservatory. It means that I can look out of the windows and watch the birds. Admittedly they aren't particularly exotic, I really only get sparrows with the very odd visit from goldfinches, blue-tits and great-tits. Last year I seemed to have a much greater variety, which is strange as I am not doing anything different this year. 

As we move into summer the conservatory may become too warm, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meantime it means I get my dining room table back, having also thrown away some stuff that had been slowly piling up since Christmas. There is still a lot to declutter, but one black bag  of rubbish is progress for one day. 

 

Not helping.

 I've woken up feeling blue, and it isn't a very good start to Merry May. You see yesterday was my last shift working for the ONS on the Census 2021 and I am going to miss actually talking to people. I am going to miss the weekly team meeting online and the seemingly simple fact that I had to text my team leader at the end of my shift to say I was finished and home safe, and that they would reply. 

The past six weeks have been tough at times, especially the first few where walking for three hours, clocking up between five and seven miles during the shift, had my knees screaming. There was one weekend when I thought I might have to resign, I didn't think I could cope with it anymore. Yet I perservered and now I am going to miss it. 

I seem to be in the middle of the perfect storm again. As people in the UK are getting excited about being able to go to the shops, have a drink outside at the pub and meet up with up to six people outside, I am reminded that I am alone. That I have no one to meet up with or to go to the pub with. My little, very part-time job has ended just as everyone else seems to be off enjoying themselves and I have the anniversary of Tall's death looming on the horizon.

I know only I can change things, I just wish I knew how. I wish I had that one person who I could trust to help me find the way through.

Melancholy May

 I know there are still four days of April left, yet already May is casting its shadow. May has become a month where bad things happen. 

In May 2006 Tall caught chickenpox from my daughter. He happily stayed at home with her as he had had it as a child (so he believed). He sadly caught it again, and it made him really ill. The chickenpox lead to shingles and he spent over a month in bed. 

In May 2010 in the midst of chemotherapy Tall was admitted to hospital with slurred speech, a drooping face and difficulty swallowing. The swallowing problem wasn't a sore throat but an actual inability to swallow food without aspirating it (it went into his lungs and lead to pneumonia). His consultant was concerned. Was the chemo the cause of his problem? Had the myeloma spread into his spinal cord and onto his brain? They did an MRI, nuclear imaging and a lumber puncture. I remember being taken into the quiet room by one of the doctors who told me of their concerns. Tall was scared and so was I. It eventually turned out that he had had a massive sinus infection, something that we only found out from a different consultant months later. 

In May 2017 Tall had to go into hospital for a second SCT. It nearly killed him and he ended up in ITU / ICU will sepsis. We were told that as he had no working system of producing blood cells and had no kidney function that if his heart stopped or he struggled to breathe that they wouldn't be resuscitating him. I can remember him saying it was alright to me as I sobbed uncontrollably . Before he had been admitted we had agreed that I would visit him twice a week as it was a long journey from home and he'd only be in a few weeks judging by the previous SCT. I ended up visiting every day, leaving the house at ten in the morning and getting back at eight in the evening. I had calls in the middle of the night from him saying they were trying to kill him, telling me to call the police as he was being held hostage. After several weeks he was moved out of ITU, unable to walk, unable to eat, a mere shadow of himself. Eventually he discharged himself as he felt he was making no progress, and so he came home unable to walk.

He didn't remember the calls and he didn't remember the DNR he had agreed to. It was only by chance, months later, that his kidney consultant mentioned it in passing. Tall hit the roof and was furious with me for having agreed to it. I clearly remember it was him that told me he had agreed to it. 

That event in 2017 left him scarred. Tall's heart and lungs were damaged by the infection that very nearly killed him. His body had lost all its muscle due to prolonged inactivity and no matter how much he ate and how hard he tried to train at the gym that body mass never returned. It was that May which ultimately lead Tall to May 2019.

You all know what happened May 2019, how a very tired Tall, whose health had deteriorated since October 2018, finally gave up. 

This year I want May to be different. I want to make Merry May Memories. I am going to ask followers on Twitter, readers of the blog and friends on Facebook for ideas on how I can turn my frown into a smile.