A promise

 I realised as I lay in bed last night that the end of my previous post might have made out that Tall was controlling, that he tried to tell me how I should be. It couldn't be further from the truth.

Tall championed me. He always had faith in me, even when I didn't have faith in myself. He never tried to change me, unlike my first husband, he simply loved me for who I was, warts and all. In return I loved Tall in exactly the same way. It's one of the reasons that I know we were soulmates, we loved each other, never wishing to change a single thing about the other. So I feel I owe it to Tall to explain what I meant about not being the woman Tall had wanted me to be. 

We had months knowing that Tall's health was declining, months that Tall used to get his affairs in order. One of the things he wanted was to make sure I would be okay. We had many conversations about what would happen to me when he was gone. Many of his plans didn't work out as friends and family, that he was sure would step up, simply stepped away. Along with his plans on how to continue the business was the plan that I should find someone else. Despite my repeatedly tearful replies that I could never love someone else, Tall insisted I must try, saying I had too much love to give to spend my life alone. Eventually I agreed, if only to stop him talking about it so often. Three years on, and with the clarity of reaching a different place in my grief, I can see that my acceptance of Tall's suggestion wasn't so much for me, but for him. He needed to know that I would be okay, even if he was leaving me. I realise now that the guilt he was feeling must have been awful for him. We had spent so many years joined at the hip, and he knew how hard it was going to be, having to continue our journeys alone. The promise that he made me give him eased his passing, and I know that he would understand that in my own way I have kept that promise. I have rediscovered the Good Cheer Pixie, and with her help, I don't need anyone else to love me.

The path to nifty sixty

 Three weeks in, and the job seems to be going well. I find myself dreaming of Tall most nights, I guess because I can't tell him about my day any other way. There are so many things I want to tell him. One of the real pluses is that the walking there and back has helped with my aim to be a healthy BMI by my birthday next year, hopefully it will be sooner.

 As part of my healthier lifestyle I looked back at the possible reasons why at the start of this year I found myself heavier than I had ever been. Eleven years ago, when we were planning our wedding, losing the weight was easy. I managed to keep the weight off until our very dear friend P. died, just before our first wedding anniversary. In 2017 I lost some weight again and vowed I would never allow myself to to put it back on. That lasted until Tall and I realised that he wasn't going to recover from the second SCT like he had after the first, and it was clear his health was going to slowly deteriorate. After his death the weight continued to creep on, little by little, not helped by the isolation of lockdown in 2020. 

Clearly I am a comfort eater. I use food to console myself when grief strikes, be that the loss of a friend, the loss of a future or the loss of a soulmate. I have come to realise over the last couple of months that, in reality, eating and drinking to excess doesn't actually make me feel any better. I still wake up the following day with a massive hole that can never be filled by wine or cream cakes. I need to find my happiness elsewhere. 

I have realised too that the changes I have made are so much easier without Tall. There's no one adding hot cross buns or Easter eggs to the trolley. No one suggesting we get a bottle, or two, of wine. No one asking for sausage and bacon sandwiches whilst on the dialysis machine. I thought that I would miss my crutches, yet in reality I am finding life without them quite easy. I can walk past the things Tall would have picked up and smile, remembering fondly what he would have said and done. 

 I think it might just turn out that I'm going to be alright on my own. Not quite the woman Tall told me I should be, but a woman that I am content with. 

 

New beginings

 As I approach the three year anniversary of Tall's death I am finally starting to feel more at peace. There is a sense of being content, not the heady over excited feeling of complete giddy happiness, but it is a massive change from the way I was feeling two years ago, or even last year. I often think about Tall and reflect on the good times we spent together, and the bad times too. Life was a roller coaster during what seemed like far too short a time. The bad years made the good ones all the better, and even the last two years were a bonus given how we thought Tall was going to die in 2017. 

I am still having to learn how to stand on my own two feet. It is strange how much I relied on just having another person's opinion on life, someone else's take on world events or the best way to do something. As I have probably said before, I might not have actually followed the advice, but it was always great to have another point of view. I now manage to do little jobs for myself, today I changed the saddle on my bike. There was a lot of cussing and I could have done with another pair of hands as I struggled to hold the spanner on one side of the bike while I tightened the one on the other. Tall would have managed with his long arms!

Next week I start a new job as a receptionist at a doctors' surgery. I have to confess when I sent off my CV I didn't think I actually had the experience or qualifications. As it turns out it was the years of being self-employed with Tall that actually helped. The years of dealing with customers and keeping the books paid off. I know that Tall would be really pleased for me. He always said I had people skills and that I underestimated myself. Life is going to be so very different, I haven't had a job with set hours for fifteen years. I have had the luxury of being able to shop when I like, walk the dog when I want and please myself about almost everything. I won't be working Mondays and Tuesdays as I'll still be looking after my granddughter, the rest of the week is anyone's guess. 

I think Tall would be proud. I am going to believe he would be with all my heart, and that he would be happy that I seem to have reached a stage of contentment and peace.

Nearing the end of 2021

Well there are only a couple of days left in 2021. Another year which is been tough for many of us. The pandemic rumbles on, especially here in the UK, where the government's policy of herd immunity has seen the deaths of many.  

Personally I have been fortunate in that covid hasn't, yet, touched me or my family. As with last year I have spent time reflecting on how tough it would have been had Tall still been alive. I suspect we wouldn't have been so lucky, as no doubt at some point Tall would have had to attend the hospital for treatment.  

I still miss Tall, and I have come to realise that the only reason I can cope with my grief, is that I simply don't think about him very often. When I do the tears start to flow. I feel guilty that I don't think of him as often as I should, but I have to protect myself. I'm not sure whether it is healthy for me psychologically. I just hope I'm not storing up trouble for the future. 

I had hoped that this year I would make progress with making new friends. I joined a few groups via an app, but haven't been to many of the events as initially I was too scared to travel home alone late at night and more recently they have been cancelled because of the rising cases of covid. I will persevere and hopefully as the evenings become longer and the weather warmer things will improve. 

One thing is for certain, I'm not looking to meet anyone new. I have no need for romantic love, I need the easy friendship that seems so hard to find. I have struggled this year with keeping up with the friendships I do have. I haven't emailed people anywhere near as often as I should. Hamstringing myself with thoughts that I have nothing interesting to say so best not say anything. It is why I haven't written a blog entry for over six months. 

Looking back over the last two and a half years I can clearly see that I have made progress with my grief. Am I where I want to be? Not yet. Do I actually know where I want to be? Probably not. To be honest it is difficult to separate my own thoughts and those which Tall had. His welling meaning "lectures" on what I should do when he was gone have left their mark. Some are easily banished, like meet someone new, others gnaw away at me as I struggle to see how I can be the person he thought I could. 

As I have said before I don't do resolutions anymore. The last two years have shown how unpredictable life can be and plans are so easily destroyed by unforeseen circumstances. The only plan I have is to keep moving forward. 

I wish you all a happy and healthy 2022. 

It could have been....

 Monday would have been our 10th wedding anniversary. Some people say it still was, but it isn't really the same celebrating alone. I looked at the photos and remembered how ridiculously happy we were. Happy to be joined by those we loved and who loved us in return. It might only have been a small wedding party that walked to the resturant after the ceremony, but every single person was there because they wanted to be, not out of any sense of duty. 

I feel robbed and more than a little bit angry that out time together was so short compared to others. I console myself with the knowledge that we were lucky to have found true love, even if it was all too brief. 

My first, my last, my everything.

How are you?

I'm okay I guess.

You don't sound too sure.

Well I still burst into tears in the middle of the street. 

Today I did just that. As I was walking the dog a neighbour drove past in his Lotus 7, he's older than Tall and has quite a collection of cars, all of which Tall adored. I reflected internally on how unfair it all was, but resigned myself to the fact I couldn't change things.

As we neared home a different neighbour was polishing his 1967 Mini, I just burst into tears. One of Tall's first jobs was working as a mechanic on Mini's, it was also his very last job.  A month before he died he helped out "the lads" at the garage he always used. They had had an old Mini sitting there for over twelve months, unable to work out why it wouldn't start. The mechanics, who are both in their thirties had no experience of working on older cars. Tall knew exactly what the problem was. He got them to take off the carburettor and he brought it home. He ordered the parts he knew he needed online and then sat, with his oxygen on, fixing it. He took back the carburettor and got them to refit it, he was then given the honour of starting the car up. It started first time. I cannot express how proud he was, knowing that he could still make a difference even when stuck in a wheelchair on oxygen. Me, I'm just so incredibly sad that he isn't here to still make a difference. 

Rainy days.

 It seems to have been raining for weeks and the only thing that appears to be flourishing in the garden is the grass. It is of course too wet to cut and it wouldn't be advisable given the lawn mower is electric. Tall once thought he would get away with it, and we had to buy a new mower. 

I thought having gotten through the anniversary of Tall's death that everything would be okay. It isn't. The dark rain clouds are not just literal, but also mental. No amount of volunteering, keeping busy or filling the day can stop the waking up in the night sobbing because there's a Tall sized hole that simply cannot be filled. A loneliness that is there even in a group of people. Even after two years I find myself wanting to tell him about something I have seen or done. To ask him his opinion on a choice I have to make. I long to have a conversation about nothing and everything, to talk about the stars under the night sky. 

I should be finding myself, instead I am simply finding that I am nothing without him. All around me people are getting back to normal. Back to their lives of holidays and coupledom. I am aware that there are those who might be in a relationship that is unhappy, I know that I am better off than them. Still, seeing people together, holding hands or simply sitting side by side, makes me sad.