First steps

Some busy days followed, a heat wave that a gave false hope of summer.

I made one rookie mistake though,

One night I eventually fell asleep reading in bed, but wearing my contact lenses I’m afraid. The left one I realised had hermitically sealed itself to my eye when I woke at 3 am. I got it out but had an eyeball like a tomato next morning.

An emergency appointment at Specsavers diagnosed an ulcer. Everyone thought I was crying, it weeper constantly, the bright sunshine didn’t help either, but I couldn’t see when I wear sunglasses, how I cursed loosing my prescription ones last year!

Eye drops antibiotics and three appointments later I’d learnt my lesson.

Half term the kids were away on a well deserved holiday in Majorca, James in London and Mhairi on a trip away too. I was a bit lonely and feeling sorry for myself, the odd sense of missing prevails.

Everyone is so kind, though I regularly greet people with the words ‘Please don’t be nice’, a coping strategy I suppose. I find a big hug works better than words.

Practical stuff and keeping busy, Hettie definitely understands, she has a knack of demanding attention at just the right time. A walk in the Park can definitely lift spirits.

After strong sun for a week we all paid the price. Thunder groans and protests, and steel grey skies dramatically unleash torrents of rain that are nothing short of biblical.

Good for the garden I suppose.

Stuck inside I’m working my way through the list of people and things that need attention.

Funerals are an expensive job but Ken deserved every penny spent, I know it went well, but it was all a bit of a blur. I watched the video link before it expired and cried when the kids spoke, something I didn’t do on the day.

People have asked how I got up to read. It was easy, I wanted Ken to be proud and that came after my own emotions.

I’ll also share my armour. I was always going to wear navy blue, the colour of my professional life. Wearing a nurses uniform people have expectations, and there is a code of conduct. Putting on my uniform at work changed my persona helped me feel confident even when I wasn’t.

The dress was from LK Bennet. A posh shop I’d never normally go into but it was closing down and had 70% off everything. It was the first shop I tried and was full of flowery frocks and just one dress in navy. It seemed it was waiting for me to go in and buy it.

One size too small but I thought worth a try. It was a snug fit and I had to get the shop assistant to help me out of it, but it was perfect. I thought Ken would approve.

I may never wear it again.

There have been so many chance things recently, I have made up my mind to accept any invitation. I’ll admit I have also struggled with rushes of nerves beforehand – becoming a widow isn’t easy I’m learning, my public face hides a lot inside.

I decided to break out of my comfort bubble the week after half term. Youth club, WI, two trustee meetings, choir, PT, plus extra grandma duties and a probate and finance matters to attend to.

By the end of that week I was shattered physically and emotionally, but also pretty proud of myself that I’d faced up to every challenge. I can’t describe how scary it felt beforehand but actually nothing was a hard as I’d imagined in my head.

It has given me confidence that I ‘can do’.

Last week things were so much easier, the long list of ‘firsts’ overcome. I’m definitely much more resilient than I thought.

Supporting the rest of the family is a big priority too, I haven’t just lost a husband, Ken was a Dad, a Grandpa, uncle and a brother. It is very interesting to see how the whole family is dealing with his loss, as always I am so proud of all of them. Talking about feelings matters, in this day and age the pace of life is so fast, people soon expect everyone to move on especially in work environments.

I’ve self referred myself to Just B the bereavement charity that is associated with the local hospice. I am very aware that I am not invincible. Crying isn’t really my thing, and a friend said to me recently that I wasn’t doing as well as I think. ‘You need a good bawl’ he told me.

I’m waiting for that.

Death after dementia is such a complex combination of emotions. We are in many ways prepared after years and years of loss.

I am used to living alone, but my purpose has changed and that will need a lot of work to manage properly.

It’s something that only time will tell.

Anyway I think that’s enough for my first evening of prose for a while.

Thanks for coming back on board.