Hi all,
Bear with me. Am in a pensive mood. It's Thursday, the candle is lit and the flame is my company. I feel as if Gilles has gone for good, nothing I can interpret as a sign. Sometimes I feel that at 15 months, I should be doing better but when I read the posts of those who are 11 weeks, 6 months or 8 months on, I tell myself that it could be me.
I miss Gilles immensely. We never actually said good-bye. I was so much in denial or hoping so desperately for a recovery, that I didn't see the end coming, or didn't want to admit it. In the end, he slipped away in a coma. I know I'm repeating myself for those who've, unfortunately, been on the site for a while now. At first, not having said goodbye didn't bother me because I felt as though there hadn't been any need. There was a knowing, and that remains true, but I would have liked to be able to hold on to some parting words. He was not very expressive, so I can't even imagine what that could have been. So, it is what it is.
What else does life hold? I went to see a doctor this week and she asked me if I was particilarly stressed out at the moment. I told her I was grieving and out came the tears, instantaneous, like magic, kind of like Pavlov's dog. Mention anything remotely connected to his death and I cry. She said hat at 51 I was still young and it was up to me know if I wanted to live through the rest of life that remained. Question mark.
I was thinking today in the car that no matter what I try - meditation, looking and talking to pictures, holding on to his pillow - nothing will ever compensate for the loss. Nothing will ever capture his essence.
We have all said at some point that a part of us died too and that we don't know who we are. Many of us, not all of us, were in our 20's when we met or got marrried to our partners or spouses. We were children, when you come to think of it. We were becoming, still being shaped and then found ourselves so deeply intertwined with another individual. We merged, in a way. Going back to that person before Gilles is impossible. I am, necessarily, partly him, partly me, plus what the illness and death did to me. I did something really courageous this week (too long a story), stood up for myself like I've never done before. I fought for Gilles' life but I've never really tried too hard for me. Have always been a good litte girl not making waves, and certainly not at work. I would have liked to hear him say, "You did well."
I've kept you long enough. If you're still reading, thank you for your patience. I had no particular point I wanted to make, just needed to prattle. For some reason, 15 months feels like another milestone - it's a round figure.
Take care, everyone, in these strange times.
