Monday 15 September 2014

Shine Bright

When the idea of The Big Garden Fete was conceived I never believed for one minute it would generate the groundswell of goodwill that it did. It is again a source of some comfort to know that my wife was admired and loved by so many, obviously a fact that escaped me during her own life, and quite possibly Susan herself. People contributed their time to the cause, baked cakes, donated prizes and equipment, expressed their love and memories of their good friend, spent money and generally enjoyed themselves in a communal experience that didn't fail to put a smile on everyone's face and a warm glow in the heart. There is something about people you know and people you don't, people you recognise but barely talk to and those that you do coming together in an aim that lifts the spirits and my gratitude and thanks to so many is only matched by the huge positives that emerged from the event. From my special friend Mandy who helps me so much and gave up her garden and kitchen for the day, to her patient husband Ben, Debbie P, Debbie G, Elsa, Michelle, Lee, Lou, Brenda, Janus, Mike and Nikki to all of the partners and the children who pitched in, everyone else who helped, came, took part and spent money, thank-you..... 

I'm in strange place some 5 months, 6 days, approx 14 hours and a few seconds after her death. Amongst other cliches that I have bemoaned about in the past the one transient, moving, evolving certainty is the one to do with time. Time to grieve, time to get on, 'got to crack on', give it time, 'in time you will learn', time when I wake up, time when I go to bed. The clock ticking towards, towards what? Another hour of another day. Making the best of time (Saturday), enduing the worst of times (always). But always time. The one determinant that might improve  things, in guess what, time! This is part of a speech that I gave to close friends at the end of Saturday. I was slightly drunk when I gave it, that's a lie I was very drunk when I gave it but I think I recall I at least got it out. What I wanted to express, to convey was that my wife remains and always will, a part of my life. A permanent memory of love and togetherness. I wasn't drunk when I wrote it I hasten to add, well not that drunk!

I’ll try to share with you some of my thoughts and feelings, as tough as that may be, it would help, to tell you, my dear friends, what goes on inside my head, my heart and my soul, and has done, every day, of every hour, of every minute and every second since that morning on Wednesday 09th April.

The loss of my wife was and is catastrophic. Utterly the worst thing, the very worst thing for me, Louise and Lily. A complete tragedy the which we will never get over or be free of or forget. Quite the contrary it lives with us always. It lives with me in particular every night, night after night, when Lily and Lou and have gone to bed and I sit alone, in my thoughts. I feel it when I rest my head on my pillow, every night, in the place where Sue and I used to be and all there is now are the diamond encrusted pillows she bought from Next. It lives with me when I wake up at 2.00am, then 3.30am then 4.20am staring at the blackness, quiet, a little standby light on our telly that we used to watch in bed together.  I feel it most when I wake up and have to get ready for the day and I don’t hear the normal “ Make us a cup of tea Matty”,  or when I come home from work and she isn’t there to say, “ Hello Matty!” . These are the times when I don’t forget. And as much as what we do, in her memory, to celebrate the wonderful person that she was, if I’m honest, I really would rather not be doing it. Not have to rely on memories and pictures and the lovely thoughts of my wife by others, nice those these are.  To be truthful I want my wife back. I want my wife to lie next to me again, I want to kiss her hair and smell her face. I want her to smile at me again. I want her to hold my hand. I would trade everything that has happened in her memory, all the wishes, love, memories and cards to have her back laughing, arguing, telling me what to do. And to embrace her tightly, and to kiss her, like we used to do to one another, in the good times, when we needed love. 

But these things will of course never be. So to all of you now, Suze closest friends and now mine. I haven’t moved on, I won’t, can’t, part of me died too on Wed 09th. But I will learn to get by, and to live with the memory of my life before Sue died. And I will do what Sue would have wanted me to do, as I would, had it happened to me. To turn a page, to start another chapter. To find happiness. I think I'm entitled to that at the very least.
But not for one moment does any of this mean that I will have forgotten, or moved on, or got over it. Just that I am here and will live my life, just like Sue would want for me, as I would for her if it was me dead.

Happy birthday babes for tomorrow, 'Shine Bright Like a Diamond'! You’ll always be in my heart.