Still Sorting

I`m still slowly sorting through Cliffs things, but not just stuff, these are all the things that made up part of his life, HIS things and I`ve to decide what stays what goes, what`s important and what`s not. And every time something goes into a charity bag I almost feel like I`m erasing a part of him. Closing accounts, sending back driving licence, unsubscribing to things all felt awful and was put off for as long as possible. The bank manager did sympathise as he noticed my expression when he cut up the cheque book, he let me keep the bank card and said he`d say I`d already destroyed it. Might seem odd but I just wanted something with his name on in the same way as I`ve not had the heart to change our e-mail address. I`m so pleased some of the forum members have accepted and are able to make use of some of the things from the shed, he`d have liked that.

Of course I`ve still kept a lot, things with memories are especially important. His helmet, yes those do hold smells and even when I couldn`t hear him I knew he was singing when it bobbed from side to side. Leather, tough, durable but more importantly it molds into and memorises the wearer, so his para boots and gloves are my treasures, this is going to sound so soppy but one glove lives under my pillow so I can, in a way, hold his hand.

Easy Prey

I was approached the other day by a big bloke with a beard and wearing a Suzuki t-shirt, "you look sad", he said. I recognised him straight away as the biker minister from the local community church. He was a pleasant sort of guy so I voiced my support for the foodbank he`d set up, giving food that the big supermarkets would otherwise throw away to those in need and for the free lunches his church gave to the same. But then it came, the spanner in the works to ruin any nice chat, "lets say a prayer together, gods looking out for you and Jesus loves you", he said. I think he was rather taken back by the horror in my voice, "No, that would be totally hypocritical of me and although jesus may have been a nice bloke, son of god, I don`t think so",

Then the jehovah witnesses, who I`d normally turn away, had come to the door when I was crying, I need of a chat I rambled on, after their second visit I thought I`d bored them away as an hour standing on someones doorstep must be tedious. But they were back this week and told me Cliff would be back on the day of reckoning, "in spirit" I questioned, "Oh no, flesh and blood", they said. So after much digging as they were trying so hard to avoid any answer, which I already knew, they said it. Nothing at all to do with how nice someone is, doesn`t matter if they are selfless and kind. This one off offer is to paid up members only!!

So no, I`m not about to be sucked into some religion to ease my pain but do I believe that there is more to life than science can explain and prove, yes. If we were nothing more than genes and synapses then I think the world would be a very boring place.

Plans

We always liked making plans, enlarging the shed, making a huge bathroom out of the extension, early retirement and touring Europe for an indefinite time, then perhaps even Australia. We`d get the maps out, plan routes, circle places we`d each not want to miss. Then the wish list of bikes that was changed or added to constantly. Whether all these things happened wasn`t really the point, we were going to grow old together with everything to look forwards to.

Now I try not to think of the future as without him I see it as empty and all a bit pointless but having nothing at all to plan for basically sucks.

Since moving here I`d become guilty of keeping things I didn`t need "just in case" so every charity bag that falls through my letterbox gets filled and the binmen must curse the heaviness of all the junk I squeeze into the bin. One of our plans was that once the kids left home we`d move to a smaller house but with a bigger shed/garage, so now decluttered I may well just go ahead with that one once I`m on my own.

Getting things out helps

I want to thank all 3 followers for recent support. We talked about your friend Tim when you popped in for a cuppy, he wasn`t looking foreward to christmas. I joined in with the kids but felt very detached, that also happens if I`m out on my own, everyones busy getting on with their lives and I feel stuck somewhere also the alone in a crowd can happen no matter how many people I`m with.

I hope your friends counselling helps more than mine did. I`d pinned my hopes on it making me feel better, that I could open my heart to someone neutral, say things I`d normally keep to myself but she focused on practicalities not feelings as I`d hoped for. There was also a big clash of personalities, empathy wasn`t her thing. So now this.

When I see middle aged couples holding hands it still makes my stomach churn, it feels like it`s sunk to the ground then other things make me bite my tongue. there was a couple on the bus the other day, he stared straight ahead, she out the window for the whole hour long journey. I wanted to squeal at them, "for goodness sake talk to each other, you don`t know how lucky you are".

Right now the one thing I really want  is something I can never have and the one person to give me a big huge hug and make me feel better isn`t here.

Good old Wobble, I uncovered him today, gave him an airing. There`s still a faint smell of petrol plus the 2 stroke I splashed round in the tank. He was always reliable, always started, except the incident with electrics in the snow, always got us home safely. I don`t think the wiring on the new warning lights was ever finished (key removal with pilot light on, very dodgy business). Infact talking of his last big ride in the snow, I think I spotted some salt deposits in his fins so will need to get an old toothbrush in there. Other bikes came and went but not Wobble, Cliff used to say I could fiddle with any but never Wobble, so the picture of Cliff that the forum gave me, such a lovely thought,  is positioned in the shed overlooking Wobble so Cliff can keep an eye on me. Maybe one day Wobble will find a new home but for now and the forseeable future he can live with me. There`s not much room in the shed for taking photos but here he is.

Music

I`ve become used to putting on a brave face (but I`m really not in the slightest bit brave), someone who lost his wife asked me if people are avoiding me yet as he found some didn`t know what to say regarding his loss. That`s not been my experience but I`ve found that some people are expecting me to be feeling better by now, so when people ask how I am my answer tends to be "not too bad", the real answer leaves some stuck for words.

I can appear reasonably normal (I don`t really like that word it`s a bit meaningless) in company but if I`m not distracting myself when alone it`s too easy to wallow. Music helps although that too can evoke memories but I prefer the feelings of raw emotion it brings to the constant mulling things over I usually have spinning round in my head.

This was one of those we danced round the shed to, this one makes me smile.

It was meant to be me

After Cliffs heart operation he was fighting fit, no more angina pains, it was me who`d been affected by cancer, I was the reason we`d looked at the Greenhaven Burial Ground, I was the reason we wrote our wills a couple of years ago when we thought it may have come back.

It had all started late 2000, I woke up one morning with a severe hot burning pain and blood. Straight to the doctor who said it was probably a cyst. I went to the clinic for a biopsy and was told that day they`d found abnormal cells. I felt numb, more worried for the people I may have to leave behind than for me. More biopsys, not a long needle this time but more like an apple corer for the dozen or so samples, felt like I was being punched every time he pressed the button. 

Then the operation, how much they took depended on what they found. I woke and peeked under the covers phew still two, breast cancer is very scary. The surgeon came round and said they`d removed the golfball sized tumour but cells had spread from it but not to the lymph nodes they`d removed from under my arm and that radiotherapy should kill those remainning.

They said treatment may burn, hmm I looked and felt like I`d been scalded. Then all was fine untill a couple of years ago when the pain started again but after more tests and biopsys they told me the treatment and op were the cause.

Cliff was so very brave, it was me who wasn`t, I felt so useless, I wanted to help him but couldn`t do a thing to change the outcome, I wanted to swop places, I wanted it to be me not him.

Those attics

Other people manage to get through this why not me, my Dad died in his fifties but we weren`t close, my Grandparents but both in their ninetys, it was time, but someone who you love and share your whole life with is so different, so hard. We were best friends, did things together, both chatty we talked endlessly, laughed, hugged and were just happy being together.

He never left or came back without giving me a hug, my recent tumble out of bed, I`ve moved to his side so I don`t have to see his empty space, half asleep I`d rolled over for my usual morning cuddle and landed face down on the floor, laughing at myself I looked up at his photograph, I`m sure he was smirking at me.  I miss not having his hand to hold and his voice. It`s strange I can clearly remember things we did together, I can picture every inch of him but can`t make myself hear his voice no matter how hard I try.

Probably more a girly thing (?) but you dream of meeting someone who`s just right and I did except he was better than I`d ever imagined. When you`re feeling down you always try to look ahead and as emotions are transient you know there`s light at the end of the tunnel but I`ve already had my dream and know that whatever happens I`ll never feel so happy again.

Cliff was the most decent man I`ve ever met,  he soaked up knowledge like a sponge, stoic, could make me crease up with laughter and kept his promise and treated me like a princess. But what he had bundles of was charisma and it shone through in those sparkly crystal blue eyes. The greatest compliment he ever gave me was when he said "you`re the female version of me, me with bumps". Near the end he looked at me and said with a grin, "I`ve ruinned you for any normal man". He was right!

I`ve read in those bereavment help leaflets "it`s like loosing a limb" no it`s not, who wrotes this stuff, it`s like having your soul ripped out..

Now for those attics.

Not true

"I`d have nothing", no that`s bollox. There is something, something that I`ve focused on and sometimes the only reason I bother anymore, the girls. I`ve discovered that nothing is for certain hence one of the reasons I wanted the mortgage paid off, for them. I wanted them to be secure "if".I love my kids who have had to put up with me sulking about for the past year.

Hard at times 3 females in a house, sometimes they`re the best of mates, next minute hate each other. In the past I tried to act as peacemaker but they`d make up and somehow it would be all my fault, so now I keep well out of such things and make for the teenager-free zone of the shed when I hear raised voices.

After my own very strict upbringing I know I`ve been far too soft with them, they told me I`m too much of a pushover but this last year I`ve made it quite clear what I expect behaviour wise and now the worst of those teenage years have passed think we`re doing ok.

Went shopping with my oldest yesterday and for the first time in years she actually asked my opinion on things she was trying on even though she thinks my clothes sense is boring. She`s right everything I own is black or dark purple or dark red or !!! and yes when I find something that fits I`ll buy more than one to save having to go shopping again or trail round yet more shops that are all full of near identical clothes anyway.

So for now all I want out of life is to see them get on and be happy.

Another Year Older

But not deeper in debt! Infact I hate the thought of any kind of debt so much that I`ve been throwing every penny I can into the mortgage, I`ve squeezed things so tight that it`s make do and mend, I tended to do that anyway so don`t mind. The bank weren`t too pleased with my overpayments, "are you absolutely sure, you`re not leaving yourself much, you`ve years left to pay" they insisted. Yes, years worth of interest they`re not going to receive.

I did splash out on a new digital tv but only because the old one was on it`s last legs and we`re having the switchover in a few months. Only 26"" said the kids. I hate those mega huge tv`s especially as I hardly ever watch although there`s a lovely little show on at 5am called Wildlife SOS which I catch most mornings. I much prefer my dab radio, the mind can make much better pictures than a tv screen.

I look and feel ten years older rather than one, cigarettes, coffee, lack of sleep and the way I feel have all contributed.  Life has become an effort rather than a joy. What now I think to myself, I`ll probably be here on my own in a couple of years, I`ve no ties to this place, I could go anywhere, not Scotland that`s going backward. Ah but memories, the house is full of them, maybe turning into a decrepit Miss Haversham is the way to go.

I feel sorry for myself then feel guilty and pathetic, what I`m going through is nothing compared to what Cliff faced both mentally and physically (we`ll make you comfortable with pain control is a lie). My councillor said she wasn`t going to take my grief away as without it I`d have nothing, mostly I feel that she was right.

The cuddly ones

The dogs of course wanted to appear on my blog, sitting still or poking their noses into the camera is always a bit of a hassle but here`s Doogie. Her favourite passtimes are eating and sleeping. She used to be head of security untill Bouncer arrived and she was more than happy for him to take over while she has a snooze. She`s very tolerant of her little sidekick whilst he pulls her back legs or ears in an attempt to get her to play, she`s laid back to say the very least.

Bouncer on the other hand likes to help and keep busy,.regular patrols of boundry fence is case of invasion by felines or else he`s helping me paint so covered in emulsion. Unlike Doogie he craves attention and cuddles, is a bit of a big baby and has a vast collection of toys and bones.

They love visitors but a bit too much, get over excited and bound on people much to my embarrassment, otherwise a great pair.

Why am I writng this, partly because there`s so much rattling round in my head that maybe writing some of it down will help make room for me again. I look in the mirror and all the sparkle that he loved has gone, he hated people with bland expressions and dead eyes.

Last year I thought by keeping myself busy, throwing myself into everything that I wouldn`t have time to think (wrong), that after some time had passed I`d not hurt so much (wrong). Yes, my stomach has stopped churning enough for me to eat again, I do get a few hours sleep a night and do all the everyday things needed to survive in this world but as time passes I miss him more and more.

So I pinned my hopes on councilling, maybe that would bring some normality back. The councillor who herself had never been married came out with cliches such as "you`ve got to more on" and "crying wont bring him back" (as if I didn`t know that one!) and "he didn`t pass away, he`s dead" (yes, that`s why I need you to try to help me).

My doctors solution was to offer me Diazepam which I refused as it`s a bit like putting a picture up to hide a damp patch which grows and festers underneath.

I did worry that I was feeling worse rather than better, that sometimes I felt I was losing the plot, then I remembered a quote from Robert Pirsig`s Lila. "If  there were only one person in the world, is there any way he could be insane? Insanity always exists in relation to others". So do I really care what society thinks, no not really, I don`t want their councilling or drugs, I`m not going to try to stop thinking about him just because it hurts, I`ll take one day at a time and go with the flow. Besides he told me he`d stick around and he never broke a promise, so he`s coming too. And if all else fails there`s the good ole family motto "f***em".

Just heard a Harley passing, nice sound, so music that echo`s the heartbeat of a Harley.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtDd5htZ_A8

The 12th march

This forthcoming Saturday, a day I usually looked foreward to, my husband, the man I adore (no past tense as love has no expiry date) would have been 55 on the day of our wedding anniversary.

I went to the cemetery today and cried, I cry a lot, and lovely as it is out there in the open countryside, the sort of place he loved, the part of him that`s there isn`t ""my Cliffy". He`s here at home with me. So this Saturday I`ll be taking that new tube of Autosol out to the shed and will spend some time with Wobble our two wheeled mate and stuff the headphones, I`m gonna blast the hi-fi.

So just for you my fine figure of a man, one of your favs that you would have had your harmonica out to.