So, I joined a really crappy club recently …

It’s for women who have lost their partner/husband too young. Doesn’t matter how they got in, none of them want to be here. These are just the ramblings of a woman who has read that ‘writing helps’ and frankly is grasping for anything that will, or might. Who knows? Not me, not yet.

To be clear – I should say I am of course NOT saying there is any age to lose a partner/husband that makes it any less difficult – just that every experience is different and age/stage of life is part of that.

I suspect this blog may dart around and be a little random sometimes but bear with me. Sometimes things really get on my wick and it may become a rant, sometimes I’m overwhelmed with little kindnesses and so it may be a bit gushy, sometimes (odd?) things now are so bizarre/absurd they make me laugh. So yes, random is probably the right word.

I should say I’m not hunting for sympathy, I’m doing this for a bit of catharsis and (who knows?) maybe someone else out there recently joining this horrible club might find something here that helps them feel they’re not alone.

By way of introduction.

Earlier this year, after a fairly swift decline from ‘doing ok’ to ‘weeks to live’ my husband died. I was with him. I am both grateful for that but also hold painful memories that are forever seared into my memory (and decide to pop up at the most unexpected and unwelcome times).

I came to a late acceptance that we/I couldn’t ‘fix’ my husband’s illness (though boy did we try, we explored so many avenues, sought second and third opinions and last minute options) so “hope” for me turned from “I hope we can make him better, gain a couple of years …” to “I just hope we can spend some memorable time together and that he will not be in any pain”. This acceptance and change in perspective was an agonising bit of mental and emotional gymnastics.

He had been ill for some time and I thought that because I knew what was coming that I had somehow prepared for it in some way … this little bit of self-deception was a coping mechanism maybe – if I can’t fix it then perhaps I can prepare for it and make it better that way.

Our (school-age) kids are incredible, they amaze me every day and I hope that I am doing right by them … talking enough, talking about him enough, listening enough, doing enough activities, having enough fun, showing how I feel but not so much they feel overwhelmed and feel the need to protect me from their emotions …

That’s probably enough of an intro for now.

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