Thursday, 21 January 2010

My darling,

When you were suddenly taken ill last November, when you were hooked up to that life giving but hideous ventilator that bleeped and flashed endlessly with alarming constancy. When you were in the ITU of Whipps Cross, I found it difficult to keep the dark thoughts at bay. My mind would wander during the day and I would have these waking nightmares of imagined, hideous scenarios. The most recurrent was standing up at your funeral and giving a eulogy. I would find myself running through the words and weeping at inopportune moments, at the checkout in Tesco’s, walking home after the school run, stirring spaghetti or during story time. More than once I actually slapped myself around the face. Partly to snap myself out of the madness and partly because I was so cross at myself for thinking such miserable, hateful things. I hesitate in telling your people this as it’s so personal and also makes me seem quite unhinged. But I want to try my best to give them a window to the emotional side of this journey. This was our life and if I’m going to do this confessional shit I may as well go the whole hog!

I digress.

So I found a way to deflect this particular nightmare by mentally subverting the funeral speech into a wedding one. My eulogy became a celebration of what we have rather than the past tense. And you know what? It worked. Then when we decided to get married I really wanted to say a few words, but to be honest I bottled it and I’m glad I did because I’m not sure I would have enjoyed the day quite so much. Then your funeral loomed and I vowed to do you justice then by saying all the things I wanted to. The little bits and the big. I wanted to tell your people about the beginning as well as the end. But I could not speak. I said a lot that day but I did not speak.

So if I had done a speech it might have gone a little like this……..

Thursday, 14 January 2010

My love,

To write since you died has been too painful. I try and try but my fingers falter. But it was like this when I started this blog except that then I had you to egg me on and push me forward. I know I have to try and be strong again. When we started it was to keep you in the forefront of everybody’s minds. We needed love, energy, good thoughts and vibes and we got them tenfold. Everyone chanted and prayed and cried and laughed with us. All of your people waited everyday to hear your news, they were here when we celebrated your remission and they were here when you had to go.

I have only realised in this last couple of empty months that this whole fucking blog thing was as much about keeping me alive as it was you. It’s a strange thing that it’s easier to be intimate with a thousand faceless people than it is with the person sitting next to you. So I want to carry on if that’s ok? I have things to say about the darkness but I want to keep you alive and there is also the story of us. The one before you got sick. The one where we lived happily ever after, the one we talked about which started on Dean Street and ended on a verandah in Thailand in our dotage, sipping ‘Sang Thip’ and setting off firecrackers till dawn.

Each word to you feels clumsy and has been reviewed, amended and deleted a million times. I want to do you justice With every letter I have punched tonight I have shed a thousand tears. Do you think that if I keep typing and typing they will eventually run out?

I might try…………

Saturday, 2 January 2010

I'm trying

to write a blog. I compose a million a day in my head and today I got this far........