The cancer's gone...and with it, it took my lovely John. He went only five days after my last post.
There are good days and bad days, since last Thursday. It's all so fresh still. Funeral doesn't happen for over a week.
I'm finding it very difficult to talk about things. Everyone in his family is so supportive and kind to me and the children. One of his brothers and his wife, and one of his odlest & dearest friends, most especially. But what I'm finding so hard is that they talk about times I never saw; a John who didn't really exist in our house. Our little family; we were the present and the future of John. The immediate and the forward.
I don't seem to have much "clout" when it comes to choices or decisions, even though I was the one by his side to very last, day and night; and I'm financially responsible for everything left behind. But, more importantly, I was every day in the face of the man he had grown into; the man he was becoming; the man he wanted to be. And everyone keeps droning on and on about things that were, at some point in his life, important to him, but aren't now - or weren't before he left us. I say my piece, but I don't argue. They can be confrontational people in this particular circumstance, are more likely to get the wrong end of the stick then run with it. They don't mean any harm. In fact, quite the opposite, they're mourning, too. But I am hurt by their unwillingness to see that who he was, at home, in the present, and who he wanted to be, his aspirations and beliefs, are just as important to commemmorate as who he was as a younger person.
I feel quite alone in this. And, despite paying for the whole shebang, will have to have my own private goodbye for John.
