Happy Easter

Easter 2012

Us

Happy

Blissfully happy

Unaware that Death was circling......waiting to claim my Husband.

Happy Easter One and All

Accepting...

How do you comprehend it?
How do you accept the loss?
How?
HOW?

Germany

I don't think of one single, solitary happy memory when I hear that word.

Not one.

For me, it brings it all flooding back in glorious technicolor.

It started yesterday when I walked to The Mount with Mum and my niece.

There were tourists of various nationalities all over the causeway but it was the Germans that I really heard.

The accent makes me feel sick.

It transports me back to April and May last year.

Every day for a month, walking to Critical Care, speaking into the entry-phone "Ich bin John Ellis's husband".

Just saying it in my head now makes me cry.

I am and always will be gloriously, ridiculously happy to be John Ellis's husband, I was truly lucky. 

And there it is....'was'.

The corridor to Critical Care....

When I flew out to join John on 20th April 2012, I didn't expect to be there for a month.

I honestly thought I'd be there for a few days and he'd be coming home with me.

By the time I arrived he'd had a heart and lung by-pass (the first of two in 24 hours!), he was in a coma and he was extremely critical.

The first people I contacted were the boys, Henry and James, they really needed to come and join their Dad.

This wasn't what I expected.

I was told it was bad, but you know how sometimes you think everyone is blowing it out of proportion? That's honestly what I thought (which filled me with guilt once I knew the truth!)......because they care they're getting caught up in the drama but he'll be fine.

He wasn't fine.

He was never going to be fine....ever again.

The hotel....

I didn't take toiletries when I flew out because I thought I'd share John's.

Since Germany, all I can use is Dove for Men.

It's what John was using at the time.

I have a lot of it in the bathroom.

A LOT OF IT.

I can't stop buying it (but bizarrely, only if it's on offer!).

If you go in my bathroom you'd think I'd been shop-lifting!!!

It smells of John but it also smells of Germany, of my hotel room.

I should change it but I can't.

Nor do I want to.

Not yet.

Part of the collection....!

When John was ill and we all thought he was coming home, I said to myself and to Mag, John's sister, that one day we would go back.

John and I would return so that the nurses in the CCU could meet him and hear his voice, his laugh and experience his wonderful, infectious personality.

Well, that's not going to happen now is it?!

And, I won't be going back.

Bremen is a nice enough place.

But it won't be seeing me again.

In my eyes it robbed me of my Husband, it took the Love of my Life from me.

I will never, ever, EVER forgive Bremen for that.

The Hospital pond...

I am not, in any way, deliberately thinking about Germany.

In fact, I don't fucking well want to think about Gemany.

However, my mind is full of it.

So much is coming back that I had buried deep.

The people that joined me there.....Henry, James, Emma, Mag, Adrian, Mark, Heather, David and Lesley.

So many moments, both funny and very, very sad.

The daily emails to approximately 70 people giving them updates on John's progress...or lack of.

Those at home who helped out enormously, including Kay, Jim, Sharon, Nick, Alan, Jorge, Debbie, the list is endless as is my thanks and appreciation.

I could go on, but I won't.

I'm sobbing like a girl.

I miss John.

I miss him more than I can ever explain.

We all miss John.

We were all so very, VERY lucky to have him in our lives, even if it wasn't for as long as we would have liked!

I played this every single night that I was in Bremen with John.

Resignation

19 days ago I started my new job.

Yesterday morning I resigned.

I sat in front of my Boss and sobbed my way through why I couldn't stay.

I sobbed. 

She cried.

She asked me to reconsider and stay.

I politely, pathetically declined.

But, crucially, she understood what I was trying to explain through the tears.

I made a decision which is wrong for me.

I should never have gone for the job in the first place.

It's a good job, it's just not a good time.

When I was still in London there were some decisions that I had made for my new life in Cornwall. 

These are decisions that I haven't stuck to and I really should have done.

1. Not working until after April and May have passed. I absolutely NEED to mentally work through the ever nearing anniversaries of John falling ill and John dying. I cannot, CANNOT be in a job and give any Boss 100% until after that. I have to meet them head on, take it on the chin and deal with them.

2. Being a PA....is it really what I want anymore? In London I said that I wanted to come here and, for want of a better example, stack shelves in Tesco. Something stressless, something that I wouldn't really have to think about. Something I could just do. I would then have time to think about what it was I really wanted to do with my future. I would love to work with plants/gardens, it's a hobby I truly love and adore and enjoy....however, those sort of jobs are gold dust....but I'd still like to one day!

When I heard about this job I switched on autopilot and went for it without even thinking it through.

At the interview I gave them everything.

I donned my suit and tie and reverted to the old me.

It did the trick and they took the bait. 

They got me.

From the minute I got it, I didn't want it.

I should never have got caught up in it and applied.

It was wrong and I have wasted their time and I have made myself unhappy.

I only have myself to blame.

At the moment the old me is the wrong me. 

Maybe, in time, that person will come back, who knows..... 

But, since last May and for the foreseeable future, I don't really think I know who the fuck I am anymore.

2 steps forward and 3 steps back?!

Love Story

I'm the first to admit that this blog isn't exactly a happy one.

Why would it be? 

It revolves around the fact that the man I love, my Civil Partner, in fact The Love of my Life, is dead.

That's not, in my eyes, a happy subject matter!

However, this week I was reminded by a rather lovely lady friend of ours that, while this blog is ultimately about grief and loss, it is also a love story.

I try to demonstrate, through my writing, just how fucking much I love John.

I am full of clichés about our relationship, but they are all true.

I knew he was The One the moment I met him.

I knew.

I KNEW.

We were meant to be.

We had so much in common.

It makes me happy deep inside knowing that I told John I loved him every day of our relationship, every single day.

"I Love You" were the last words John ever heard me say.

I know he loved me.

Good God, I know he loved me.

He showed me all the time.

He made my life an adventure, a fucking exciting adventure!

Following John's death, I heard more and more from people telling me how much he used to talk about me, how much he loved and adored me, how happy he was with me.

It seems we did a lot of telling other people how much we loved each other and how happy we were with each other.

I love him and he loved me.

Our relationship was by no means perfect, we had some stonking arguments, but our love was absolutely, completely and utterly 100% PERFECT.

And to me, John was perfect, in every way.

His looks.

His mind.

His body.

His attitude to life.

His personality.

His laugh.

His tenderness.

His wonky eye.

His wonderful sons.

His bonkers family.

All of him, inside and out.

Oh yes people, this is a fucking Love Story, the most wonderful, amazing, truly heart wrenching tragic Love Story. 

If they made a film about us you'd sob like a girl from beginning to end at how much we loved each other.

Because we did.

We really, really, REALLY loved each other and we were HAPPY.

We were blindingly, astonishingly, incredibly, absolutely, blissfully, wonderfully, happily, eternally IN LOVE!

'Til Death Do Us Part!

Mo(u)rnings

My mornings have returned to being depressive, negative, dark and unhappy.

It takes me all day to ‘warm up’ and resemble something remotely normal.

These black mornings have got me making really quite stupid, irrational decisions.

AGAIN.

I’ve decided to resign from my job more than once and I’ve only been there for nearly 2 weeks.

I’ve decided to return to London (yesterday I was absolutely decided on this!).

I’ve considered moving abroad (I’m still running away).

These and other stupid ideas are bouncing around in my head when I wake up each and every morning.

They stick around for a while and then, like sunlight peeking from behind a cloud, they go, one by one, back from whence they came.

I slowly figure things out and file them away.

But…..

I am finding mornings really hard.

AGAIN.

It doesn’t help that I have to find yet another home for me and the dogs.

AGAIN.

I’m feeling really unsettled.

AGAIN.

I am worrying everyday about whether or not we will find another house.

AGAIN!!!

I’m pretty sure the dark, horrid mornings have returned because next month and May will be the 1^st anniversaries of John falling ill and subsequently dying.

I am DREADING April and May, really, REALLY dreading them.

These are the worst anniversaries that we, his family and friends, will have to endure since John died.

In my head I am already re-living the month I spent in Germany with John.

Apart from one very special moment when he woke up from the coma and we kissed, all of it is horrid.

All of it.

Over the coming couple of months there will be much “this time last year…..”, etc, etc, etc.

And crying…..lots and lots of crying.

I have cried for almost a year – I’m a one-man drought solution!!!

I am still lonely.

Very lonely.

Things in Cornwall are picking up and with the new job comes new friends.

But as I’ve said before, even with people around me I feel like the only one in the room.

I feel lonely even when I am surrounded by friends and family.

It’s hard to explain it properly but it feels like since John died I’ve been placed in a giant bubble.

I can see and hear everyone around me but I am still alone.

They can see and hear me but they can’t reach me and I can’t reach them.

You know in Lord of the Rings when Frodo puts the ring on and ‘disappears’?

THAT’S how I feel…..removed from my surroundings even though I’m still very much there.

Is it me getting used to being single again? I'm not sure.

I don’t want to be single.

I don’t want to think single.

I don’t want to live single.

It’s not intentional as some sort of weird coping mechanism but in my head I live my life as though John is away on the conference – he’s still working in Germany and just hasn’t come home yet.

We are still together and we are still married.

We're not apart, John's not dead, I'm not single.

On his Facebook page, John’s last check-in is his hotel in Germany and the last photo he uploaded is of the view from his hotel room, taken on the morning of the day he fell ill.

I stare at it often……probably too often, wondering how he was feeling, was he aware of anything untoward in his health that day? (and I'm still worrying that he is still there!).

I don’t think I will ever truly accept that John is dead.

Rightly or wrongly, that’s how I feel.

To acknowledge that he is dead is to acknowledge that he has gone from my life forever and, to be honest, I cannot cope with that thought.

I doubt I will ever cope with that thought.

This past (almost) year has been non-stop in terms of worry, stress, anxiety, upheaval and unhappiness……

I really would like it all to stop.

In my head I beg and plead for it to stop but my requests go unanswered.

I’d like to feel settled again (and find a home for longer than 6 months!!!!!).

I’d like to not feel lonely all the time even when I’m surrounded by people.

I’d like to feel happy again.

What we'd like and what we get are two completely different things, non?!

Who Wants To Buy A House By The Sea?

When I first moved here, I knew it would be an initial 6 month contract. The estate agent informed me that the tenancy would most probably be renewed and I could stay here in this lovely house longer than 6 months.

As of today, that's not going to happen!

I emailed my landlords yesterday enquiring about the length of the tenancy as I have absolutely fallen for this house and would like to live here long term if possible.

The response was short and sweet.

They have a renovation project that needs funding which means this house is to be sold. My tenancy will cease in mid July this year. Me and the dogs have 4 months left here before we must move home again. Just when we were really settling in.

When will all the fucking drama end?

I know it wasn't guaranteed that we would stay here longer than 6 months, but I was led to believe that it was just a matter of renewing after the initial 6 months. The landlords obviously had no intention of doing so. I'm not entirely happy with the estate agents in hindsight!

So.

Here we go again.

House-hunting part 2.

Now that I know we will be leaving I want it to happen sooner rather than later. I want to try and enjoy the entire summer in one place. I will be house-hunting from now. The clock is ticking. At least we are IN Marazion this time which will make things much easier, rather than being 300 miles away in London!

If anyone out there would like to invest in property and I'll be your long term tenant please do get in touch!!! I'd buy this place in a heart beat but alone it's impossible, I cannot afford a £200,000 mortgage on my own and I emptied the dogs' piggy banks long ago! (don't tell them!)

Stress levels are high tonight, not helped by some dog trying to savage Millie on this evening's walk which almost tipped me over the edge!

Vodka, where for art thou my love?

I'll be making the most of this view from my deck!!!!!

9 to 5

Today is my first 'Friday feeling' in 3 months.

I successfully completed an entire week in my new job.

It went relatively smoothly apart from one day.

Wednesday.

It did not go well.

Monday and Tuesday were as you would think - information overload, learning the ropes, handovers, new colleagues, etc.

No surprise there.

Wednesday morning I woke up feeling 'off'.

I was not happy.

I was emotional from the moment I woke up.

On Wednesday I had a 'familiarisation trip' which took an entire day.

A day spent at a couple of Cornish mines, learning about the now extinct industry.

Gathering information about the organisations that I will be dealing with on a day to day basis, in particular Cornish Mining World Heritage (http://www.cornish-mining.org.uk).

It could have been so much more interesting if I had given it a chance, allowed it to sink in.

Instead, I spent the day fighting, literally fighting tears.

I was unhappy, emotional, I did not want to be there.

All I could think of was walking, leaving.

I didn't want the job.

I absolutely did not want it.

I wanted to go back to the office and tell them I had made a huge mistake.

All day, all I could think was "I'm not ready for this".

It consumed me.

My mind was pitch black.

Nothing was right, it was all wrong and negative.

I spent the day trying to hide my tears.

Wednesday evening was me pretty much sobbing, trying to justify to myself why I should give up the job. 

Why I shouldn't be there. 

Why I was better off sitting at home with the dogs.

It wasn't a good night.

I was a mess.

I woke up Thursday morning full of doom and gloom, I walked the dogs and got ready for work, still of the opinion that I was going to turn up, resign and walk out again.

On the way to the car I had a chat with my Hubby.

I basically said "prove me wrong".

Show me that taking this job is the right decision.

Make me believe that I am doing the right thing.

Give me the kick up the arse that I obviously need!

Yesterday, I had a really good day!

I connected with my new Boss.

I calmed down.

I felt 'better'.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't believe in that 'beyond the grave' crap, I really don't.

But, all I did was 'put it out there' into the cosmos.........I like to think John had a hand in it.

You'll be pleased to learn that my emotional state has returned to something resembling normal, not that I have ever been normal!

And, I also got another interview invite this week for a job in Penzance working for Cornwall Council (which I declined as I already have a job don't I?!)....

It seems I'm in demand now!

A Low

I heard this song last night on the TV and it has kicked off something of a low.

John used to sing along to this song some evenings while he was cooking and it has nothing but happy, lovely memories attached to it.

I sat there, listening to the TV, I stared at his portrait on the living room wall and I sobbed.

It was in that very moment that I missed him, I mean REALLY missed him.

I literally 'ache' for him.

I am so eager to talk to him.

Knowing that I cannot just makes me feel worse.

I've spent the weekend with my niece, sister and god children, which has been wonderful......but.....when I am alone I am incredibly lonely.

I feel VERY lonely when I am in this house on my own - there's only so much conversation I can have with Max and Moo!!!

It's not like I'm not seeing people and not having some sort of social life, I am.

But lone time, just me and the dogs, is not something I am enjoying.

And I really need a hug, a cuddle, a pair of warm arms around me to make me feel like it's going to be ok.

Because, truthfully, I don't feel ok.

I honestly don't.

I have a new job which I have spent the weekend worrying about because, now that I have a job, I am paranoid that I cannot do it, that I will fuck it up, that I'm not good enough.

Also, as I have said previously, I'm not even sure I'm ready to go back to work.

Am I?

I don't know.

I find it difficult some days to make any small decisions, let alone organise the office of a CEO!

So much is going round in my head, it's full to bursting with thoughts, most of which are negative or stupid or plain fucking silly! 

But they're there.

It's a difficult day today and I cannot shake it.

The tears are bubbling right under the surface.

I just want a hug.......

From John.