Dearest John

I still don’t want to believe I’m in this ‘trouser of time’.  It’s the night before your funeral!

The family have been here, eating pizza, and there has been a bit of strife, which just emphasizes to me what a loss it is to not have you as my ‘companion of choice’ anymore.

How can it be that you are ‘gone’, nowhere?  Can I try to believe your soul is intact somewhere in an afterlife?  If it’s true give me a sign.

I will try to hold you in my heart and take you with me, rather than thinking of you in your grave.

I remember how when I walked into the hospital and found/saw you dead in that side room, I didn’t cry because there was a sense of inevitability and also relief that you had been spared a worse option.

But now I have cried so much afterwards.

There is just that recurring horror of loss, when I think of your kindness and your tender smile and your love towards me.

I used to argue always that one couldn’t actually feel incoming love.  You could know it or believe it, but surely in your heart you could only feel outgoing love.

Now I realise how precious it was to have had someone love me all those years.

I did appreciate it, but somehow I didn’t value incoming love enough.  It will probably never be repeated – I’ve had my dose of being loved.  Twenty nine years of constant love from the same man.

After tomorrow I may start to think about the rest of my life.  But I can’t do that yet.

It’s so so difficult to sit here in front of your empty chair and think of all the nice happy evenings, especially Fridays, we had here together.  And this is the spot where I last saw you – the ‘old John’, before the hospital experience.

But I have to face it.  Death has called unexpectedly and this experience of grief is hardly unique.  The world must be full of grief.

It’s just that we were so close and I liked you so much my darling – I liked having you around, talking to you, telling you about things.

Maybe I ‘took’ more than I ‘gave’.  (Although you always said not.)  I should have listened more, been more sympathetic.

But I did care for you, I did, I did!

My tears now prove it. The horrible emptiness when I think of you gone.

At least it is not you grieving for me, my poor dear.  At least all your concerns are over.

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