The Days Are Different Now

It’s been over a month since Kevin died.  That particular event feels both near and far in my mind.  It’s hard to explain.  It is a pivotal event in my present and my past, I can’t think about my future.  For me so much has changed and with a permanence that is the most unsettling thing.  In the past Kev would go away, sometimes for a couple of days, sometimes longer.  When the kids were young he would take them away with him camping, travelling, to the cottage, after all as a teacher he had his summers off.  The first few days alone by myself were delicious, I would eat when I wanted and whatever I fancied – dinner could be Ritz crackers and a cup of tea.  I could sleep in the bed sideways if I wanted.  There was no one to look after but myself.  After a couple of days of self indulgence I would start to miss the routine, the responsibility, the interaction, the activity,  and was ready to have him come home.  And he always did.

There was a lovely denial that I existed in while he was sick, and to an extent he did too.  There were things he wanted to do and he was a determined sort, I think we all thought that through sheer force of will he could just keep on going.  He knew he was sick and would eventually die from his cancer, but we always focused on his being in that seven per cent that make it five years or more.  Ten months was all we got, and I wasn’t really ready at all.  Now my reality is that I can never settle in to watch television with him; he is not here to spin his yarns; I don’t get to listen to him practicing his keyboards anymore; his sketchbook remains unopened on his desk upstairs; he’s not here to help ‘organize’ my life for me anymore, and most importantly, I miss our discussions – he had an opinion on everything, right or wrong, but he was never bashful about sharing it.   His voice, that rich deep timbre of his voice, I miss his voice.

These are my daily struggles. This is the stuff that no family or friends can replace.  This is the stuff that catches me off guard at the oddest moments.  It is my forever loss, because it is permanent and it is real and it can never change.




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