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Terry's Diary Our Liz.
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On Monday we gave Liz a cracking send off, but Tuesday was a different proposition, and I have been experiencing a range of emotions. I thought that I would like to record some of them and that if I did that here firstly, anyone going through something similar might find some comfort, and secondly, it will give me some reference point to see that, despite how I might be feeling at the time, things will be getting better. Please feel free to read it or not as you will. I will try to update it regularly, although that may not be frequently. The weekend Liz died I am not sure what I was feeling, I can’t remember, and the two weeks that followed were so busy organising the funeral that I didn’t have much time. I did visit Liz twice at the undertaker’s and although after two weeks, Liz didn’t really look like Liz, it didn’t matter too much, largely because she was dressed in familiar clothes. The first visit was very comforting. I was able to say things to Liz that I hadn’t when she died. Among the things that brought me real comfort was being able to promise her that I would bring her home again when this was all over. That really helped. On Sam’s advice I wrote her a goodbye letter to take with her, and that helped too. The second visit was rather more upsetting because it was the last time I was ever going to see Liz, and that upset me greatly. On the whole though I was glad I had done it. The funeral itself was beautiful, but felt unreal. I had long decided that I wanted to walk down the road to the Puss behind Liz. I’m not sure why, but it felt right and other members of the family joined me. At least one agreed with me, it felt right. The church service was very moving and emotional as you might expect, and the crem was as upsetting as it is supposed to be. The final farewell. I didn’t have as much trouble as I thought I might gearing myself up for the evening. Liz was very clear what she wanted - an evening booze up with food, drink, friends and much laughter and memories. I felt that I had to give permission to everyone to laugh by setting the tone - as it was likely that people wouldn’t feel entirely happy about laughing at a funeral - and I wasn’t sure if I was going to manage it. It would seem that I did though as there was indeed much food, drink, and laughter at memories among old friends. The next day wasn’t as bad as it might have been, my brother and his wife, Ronnie (Vicki’s mum), Vicki, Naresh and the girls were all here and stayed until lunch time, which helped, and I went down to the Puss with Tony in the evening. Tuesday was OK. Wednesday, though, was bad. I woke up feeling completely alone, and the feeling didn’t go away. I was better when I was with someone, but when it was just me it all fell in on me again. Despite organising a couple of things, I felt very weepy all day. In the evening, I had a phone call from Tago to say he had had an exciting day at work and needed to tell someone about it – so back to the Puss. We had a pleasant evening and I went to bed feeling better. On Thursday, I was feeling much better. No idea why – I just was. Now and then something would creep up on me, but mostly the day was fine. I guess it’s going to be like this, up and down, and the downs just have to be got through. Friday, was a cross, the black hole was there all the time, waiting for me, but so long as I could run away from it by keeping busy it was all right. Liz is waiting for me at the undertakers, but I know if I go and collect her I will feel terrible, so it will have to wait until a brighter day. Friday night I went to T&Js for a take away and spent the first night in my new pad in Duffield. It’s a long story, but I now have the use of a small flat about a 10 minute walk from T&J which means I can have a drink without having to worry about taxis. It worked quite well last night. More later (if you’re interested). |
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Last week I deliberately set out to keep busy. On Tuesday I collected Liz from the undertakers. I promised her I would bring her home again, and now I have I find it comforting to have her here. I have planned her place in the garden and Mike, the landscaper, will be starting on it some time after Christmas. In the meantime Liz sits on the dresser in the kitchen where I can talk to her. I realise this might sound strange, morbid even, but it is very comforting to have her here and to talk to her. Later on Tuesday I went down to Vicki and I stayed the night there. The granddaughters were delightful, Naresh came in later and we had a good evening. I always find company up-cheering. On Wednesday morning I went over to Maidenhead to meet up with my old school friend Earl and we spend the day at the Brooklands Museum (this is at the old Brooklands race circuit near Weybridge). I stayed the night and spent Thursday with Earl as well. On Thursday night Earl, I, and another school friend, Anne went to Bushey (just outside Watford) to have dinner with two other old friends. A really good evening was had by all, and I came home on Friday feeling much better. A good week, and it showed quite clearly that company helps. I have left this weekend free (apart from going out to dinner Friday, Saturday and Sunday) to see how I get on. There is no doubt that I was feeling a bit weepy this morning but this is frequently brought on by having to remove Liz's name from stuff. We had booked a holiday in Lanzarote but now Earl will be coming with me instead, so Liz's name had to come off the plane tickets and it is upsetting. I seem to be managing OK so far, but I have no idea how tomorrow (Sunday) will go – it looks like a great expanse of nothing at the moment but no doubt I will be able to fill it. A friend suggested that it is a good idea to get up in the morning with a plan for the day already in place and I think this might be true. I will try and sort something out for tomorrow. I have some bits booked this coming week, but mostly the days are free. I hope there will be more up days than down days. |
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I haven’t had much to write about, nor indeed the time to write it. Events and friends have been keeping me rushed off my feet which has stopped me thinking about things. I feel a bit guilty because I’m not thinking of Liz, but my head knows it’s the right thing to do. Christmas has added some things to do, although I haven’t done much, but I have got a newsletter out (for an on-line version click here). It was a bit rushed, and I had to make the choice between an A4 sheet and a folded A3. I had slightly too much material for two sides of A4, and slightly too little for four. In the end I settled for two sides so there is nothing in there about the funeral - to read about the funeral click here – but it says goodbye to Liz and to the happiest years of my life. Friends are keeping me occupied and I get a number of invitations – all of which are very welcome but eating a large Sunday lunch at about 1 o’clock, then a large dinner at 7 o’clock, while good for my well-being, is not good for the waistline. Not looking forward to Christmas much, but I guess that will surprise nobody. I am sure those same friends and family will help me through it and then there is a new year, which I hope will be better than this. More when there is more to tell – probably after Christmas. |
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A couple of bits have come up this week. Firstly, I have realised that I am rushed off my feet because, suddenly, I am called on to do not only all the stuff that I have always done, but now I have to do all the stuff that Liz used to do as well. That was largely to do with keeping us fed, and looking after all the social contact – keeping in touch with friends near and far, booking evenings out at the pub, Christmas cards and presents, birthday cards and presents and so on. And I just can't do it all. There was no way I was going to be able to do Christmas cards this year, but I did get a newsletter out. I have taken over Liz's birthday list but I don't think I am going to be able to remember everyone in it as well as Liz did. Then there are all the people I ought to phone – there just aren't enough hours in the day and I'm not sure how I will handle it yet. I've only just realised there is a problem, and a solution will need some thinking about. The other thing is that somebody said to me a couple of days ago “people don't know what to say to you” and, while I recognise the problem, it feels odd from this side of the conversation. I'm not moping, I'm not going to burst into tears at the drop of a hat, in fact people will find I'm pretty normal (or at least, normal for me). So if “people don't know what to say to you” applies to you, please don't worry about it – just say what you would have said anyway and I will do likewise. I have recently realised that, when I do feel a bit weepy, it is rarely for me but almost always for Liz and what she went through. When I think about her fortitude, how bravely she bore everything, how little she complained when she must have realised that she was dying – this makes me cry. For myself, I seem strangely unmoved. Yes, of course I miss her, and I will go on missing her, but my life is busy at the moment, and I am managing well. Is this normal? No idea, but it is not the reaction I would have predicted for myself. |
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Well, I got through Christmas. It was always going to be a difficult time – people tell me that the first Christmas is the most difficult – but with help from friends and family I survived. I went to Julia and Tago for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day and that seemed to work out well. Emma, the younger daughter, let me use her bedroom, which was very kind, and I felt very well cared for. On the Friday I went down to my brother's on the south coast, but I went via Vicki where I stopped for lunch. Vicki now has three parents and in-laws who are widowed, two small children, and a three bedroom house. Clearly that particular quart is never going to fit in the available pint pot, so mine was a flying visit, but I gave the girls their Christmas presents - a large cardboard Wendy house - and the paints with which to paint it. That went down well – with the girls anyway - it was quite a bit larger than I had imagined and occupied rather more of the room than it perhaps should have done, so I'm not sure how Vicki or Naresh saw it. Staying with my brother and his wife was very easy and very relaxing, even when their son and daughter-in-law arrived with their 12 year old son, and 8 year old daughter. They were all good company, made me feel welcome, and I was greatly chilled out when the time came to return on Thursday 2nd. I drove back up to Vicki, who had an empty house by this time so I was able to stay the night and do all the catching up that I had missed on the way down. New Year's eve was a bit grim as I couldn't forget how positive everything had been last year. Liz's bone marrow transplant was done and successful and, although she was still very weak, we were looking forward to recovery and at least a few years of remission. I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep on December 31st, but that really was the only low point. Now here we are in 2014, and I feel a bit more ready to embrace my new life – new year, new start feels right. Socially, January is pretty empty and I don't intend to fill it the way November and December were filled – although keeping myself so busy I couldn't think was right then, I was worn out and I couldn't keep it up. I have invitations for meals on Sundays most weeks, and Saturday seems to take care of itself, so there shouldn't be many days with no human contact at all, something I really dread. I received a few exciting adventures for Christmas – we have hovercraft racing to do, a three-family go cart session, and a trip to Airkix to organise (free-fall jumping in a vertical wind tunnel) so there is a lot to look forward to. A good friend, Bryan, sent me a poem which I have found a great help:- She is gone, by David Harkins You can shed tears that she is gone or you can smile because she has lived. It is pointing me in the right direction. My head tells me to look forwards, and I am trying hard, but my heart wants to look backwards, so I do a bit of both and I expect I always will. I hope that as time goes on the balance will shift so that I am mostly looking forward to the future. I don't know what 2014 will bring, but I hope to see a lot of my lovely granddaughters, I expect to take a few holidays, I shall enjoy a few evenings at the pub and who knows what else. I can't say I am feeling cheerful, and the sadness keeps intruding, but I feel positive most of the time. |
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To go back to Liz's page click here. |
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