I don't really know where to begin but I'll try to make some sense out of the last few days, the days I've spent since my Darling left us on 22nd August and my world fell apart. I never knew I could feel such sadness.
This will be the first night I've spent at the flat since he passed away. My daughter Nikki took me in because I couldn't face coming back and that's where I've been staying, till now. It's helped me a lot because I didn't have time to think too much, except at night and early in the morning when I got up before everyone else.
Nikki's home is hectic, to say the least, and very noisy. I've been keeping busy registering John's death and making arrangements for his funeral at the Woodland Burial Ground and in between people have been so kind.
After it happened all my family rallied round and turned up at the MacMillan Unit en masse. I couldn't believe the support they gave me.
So, now I'm home (although it doesn't feel much like home any more) and I have plenty of time to think and go over what has happened.
I never thought that John wouldn't be coming out of MacMillan any more but his condition deteriorated and it was a great shock when they told me that he was nearing the end. I knew it was inevitable and I'm glad now that he is free from pain and suffering, but at the time I couldn't believe that he was finally losing his battle. It took him two days and nights to let go of this world and I stayed by his side almost constantly.
I won't go into the details because they are much too painful but his eldest daughter showed herself in her true colours and was absolutely evil to Jo, his youngest daughter who has been with us throughout the final stages of this horrendous journey.
My daughter Nikki sat with me the first night, despite suffering from sciatica, and never complained once. We watched over John and kept talking to him. Then people came and went and said what they needed to say to him and Jo and I kept watch the final night while Jo's boyfriend Sven and my wonderful young granddaughter Kim tried to sleep in the lounge and kept popping in and out with tea, etc. The previous Thursday, Kim had been able to tell John her exam results and he understood that she'd done well and praised her. I'm so glad he did because he cared so much about her - she's known him since she was three years old and loved him very much.
We noticed changes in John's condition throughout that last night but the final hours were so peaceful. He couldn't talk but he made little sighs each time we spoke to him and I swear that he knew we were there and was trying to respond. Towards the morning there was another change and, despite Jo's sister being so awful to her, she phoned her and said that she thought she should be there. She came, but John's son stayed away and we haven't seen him since.
John breathed his last at 9.35am on Monday 22nd August and I was right beside him, talking to him all the time.
It's helped to write all this down and no doubt I will look back over all the blog posts I've written one day, but not now. This evening has been the worst evening since he went away. It's finally hit home that he's gone and I'm on my own now.
His funeral is next Monday, on what would have been his 68th birthday. Jo is devastated too but we're trying to make it a celebration of his life. I'll blog about it some time next week.
He was such a wonderful man and so very brave. The past 15 years have been wonderful, except for the months since that dreadful day he was diagnosed with this awful disease. He was my soulmate and I don't know how I can go on without him, but for his sake I've got to try. He wouldn't want me to be too sad because he hated to see people upset.
Gemma is grieving too. When she finally realised that John wasn't around she hid under the bed and she's been so quiet and subdued all evening. I think she knows he's not coming back. She's lying in his recliner as I type this but I will have to try to get her out into the garden before we can both go to bed. All the hospital equipment is gone, thank goodness, and I've got rid of all his medication - I don't want to remember him being so ill and helpless. I want to remember him how he was when he was fit, vital and full of fun. I hope that writing this blog today will wipe away the unhappy memories.
Tomorrow's another day and I will try to take one day at a time, as he would have wanted me to do.
Sorry if this is all a bit of a muddle but I'm going to click on 'publish' in a minute and hope for the best.
Love you all and really appreciate the love and support you have given me.
Love and *hugs*, Madge x x x x x x
