Tomorrow is just another day...

It is now 2015 and apparently the start of a new year. Everyone has returned to their own lives and carried on as normal. Many people told me, "You just have to get past your wedding date," or "Just get Christmas and New Year out of the way and you'll feel better." I felt like screaming... Why will I feel better? Does a new year bring Luke back? Does a new year take away this pain and anxiety? Does a new year mean I'll stop thinking of Luke and the entire life and future we have lost? Will a new year magically make everything return to how it was? Will the new year stop me from crying when I clean my teeth because I look at his toothbrush; untouched and unused? Will the new year stop me from having breathing issues every time I walk down the meat aisle and have to look at packs of chicken that Luke would've put into our trolley, which I now have no use for? Or when I pass by his other favourite foods that I no longer want to buy? No it will not. Maybe this is true for people who were not close with Luke. Maybe this is true for work colleagues, who did not have Luke in their lives every second of everyday. Maybe this is true for people who had served with him briefly or only met him a few times. Maybe this is true for people who are now able to carry on with the same future they had always planned to have because the loss of Luke has no effect on their future. Maybe this is true for people who did not have future plans with Luke and had not seen him as an important part in their future lives.

But for people who loved Luke and had their lives integrated with Luke. This is certainly not true. I know you should not judge another person's grief as we all react differently, but don't tell me that things will be better just because you feel better about this situation. Don't tell me that I should return to my old routine because you have returned to yours. My life will never return to an old routine because Luke was my routine and he was my life and everything. He was the reason I laughed and the reason I smiled and the reason I lived. Every moment when Luke was alive I thought of him and all our promises and things we had done and will do and I looked forward to them with butterflies in my tummy and excitement in my entire body. Life with Luke was amazing. Every second of it.

But now he is gone and I think of all the things we had planned; except they now feel empty and numb and daunting. And nobody gets it. Nobody understands. They just think I should go back to work or should do something to focus my mind elsewhere. But how can my mind possibly focus on anything? This feeling isn't something I can just switch on and off. It is something that I can hide and mask for a short while but it takes every single bit of self control and energy that I have, not to cry in front of others. It takes a lot of self-control not to fall apart as I walk down the street or go to another person's house. Or go round the shops while watching other couples living happily. Sometimes I will begin a job outside of the house; like food shopping, and just have to quit and leave and get out. Because I can't physically cope much longer with holding it together. I am an independent woman. I was independent and very capable of doing things before Luke went and I'm sure I can still be that way now but life without Luke is terrifying and this thought is crippling. It's makes me feel sick to think about it. I have to remind myself to breathe and every part of me hurts.

People mistake my calmness as me coping well. I don't think I'm coping. I am surviving. You don't get a choice in this matter. So many people wished me a happy new year or told me to have a great 2015. It's as though they had completely forgotten what had happened. Or maybe it's because they are over the death of Luke. That time of mourning was for last year. But for the rest of my life I will mourn Luke. For the rest of my life he will be the man who stole my heart and took it with him the evening he died. There will never be a 'great' year again. How can there be? Some people may have to alter a couple of things because Luke is gone. But I have to change EVERYTHING.

This is my response to a new year...

"Everyone is wishing a Happy New Year to each other. But I don't feel like tomorrow is a new year. To me it is just another day that I have to wake up without you next to me and I'm forced to acknowledge once again that this is real and not just a nightmare. It is just another day that I turn over to find an empty space where you should be laid. It is just another day that I have to get up without you and without our morning snuggle. It is just another day when I can't see your smile or hear your voice. Tomorrow is just another day that I learn again that I only need to get one cup out of the cupboard for our morning tea/coffee, so I have to put your cup back in and put the coffee away. It's another day when I don't hear your coffee machine. Tomorrow is just another day when I walk through the house with just an empty echo of where you used to be. Tomorrow is just another day where there are no more conversations with each other. It is just another day when I can't hear your laugh or see your smile. It is just another day where I can't touch you or feel your touch. Tomorrow is just another day when I learn and feel and experience all over again what it is to lose you; and I'm sure that each of these times another piece of me breaks. It is just another day that I have to fight every second of, just to make it through to the evening. This night will not change my loss. It will not get better because a number has changed from 2014 to 2015. Tomorrow will be just like every other day has been since you left - A day without you xxxx"

I realised tonight that never again will I be someone's very first thought when they wake or the very last thought when they fall asleep. Never again will I be someone's thought in the day, which will make them smile. Never again will I be the reason why someone smiles and laughs. Never again will I be someone's entire world and their everything. Never again will I be the one that someone wants to spend the rest of their lives with. Never again will I make someone think, "Wow." Never again will I be important to someone or someone's priority. Never again will I be loved like Luke loved me. And never again will I feel this way about another.

Tomorrow is just another day where this all begins again. Except it's harder because everyone around me expects me to be getting better and back to normal. Because after all...it is a new year.

37 days to a wedding that can never happen...

Luke has been gone for far too long. It's been a month. A whole month since I saw him last and yet it only feels like yesterday. What have I achieved in a month? Not a lot to be honest. I have achieved nothing apart from surviving each day. In fact the days have just molded into one long mass of time. It is 00.27 and I'm wide awake, which is why I'm up and writing this. 

There is a serious amount of paperwork to do. I now have to sort out wedding insurance but I'm only needing to claim for one thing as everyone else have ignored their policies and returned all the money, which has been absolutely fantastic. I also have to sort out the insurance for the cancelled honeymoon. You would think that given the circumstances the insurance would make life as easy as possible. But no...they require a ridiculous amount of evidence and I lost count of how many times I had to write, "Luke died." on one form!!! Seriously, read the first frigging reason and quit asking questions! It's a good job I'm an organisation freak and kept all of the wedding receipts and honeymoon stuff together too because this would be even harder if I couldn't find the things.

Dismantling a wedding is hard and heart-breaking. If Luke and I had just changed our minds then I could cope with that. If he had been posted somewhere and we needed to postpone it...I could handle that. But this is horrific. It's a total smack of reality in the face of a future lost. (As if it wasn't clear enough already!) To make matters worse, photos all over facebook of happily married people just punches you when you're down. I don't want to see happy brides with their man because I'm never ever going to have that. Never again will I laugh and joke with Luke. So I'm not interested in seeing others doing that. Selfish? Yes - completely and utterly selfish but that's how I feel. I don't want to hear about someone else's wedding plans or about their honeymoon. Selfish again? Yes. But that's how I feel and there isn't a lot I can do to change that. I don't want to hear about the happy futures of others right now. Maybe one day I'll be ok with it but right now all I think is..."That should be us." We should be smiling down the camera on our wedding day. We should be getting excited about our honeymoon!! We should have been finalising our wedding plans this month. But instead I was organising Luke's funeral and cancelling our wedding. How is that fair?

Instead of arranging flowers for my bouquet and for the button holes, I had to arrange funeral flowers and a coffin top. Instead of helping Luke choose his outfit for our wedding, I had to go through his wardrobe and choose his final outfit. I had to decide whether he would want to wear something posh like his suit but then questioned if he would be ok with his favourite ridiculously expensive suit being burned. So then I had to decide if he'd like to wear his favourite bordies and vest top but would he want to be in them all the time because he loved to dress up. So I decided to dress him in his smart casual clothes that he wore on our dates. Now THAT was hard. Giving up the clothes that I associated so many happy times with. They were clothes that were so him. He had two date shirts. I chose to keep his main one because I just couldn't let that go but I did put him in his other favourite date shirt. It felt like losing another part of him. I thought I knew which trousers to put him in until I realised he had two pairs of the same colour! AArgh!!! It took me ages to think back to all the times I could remember him wearing them, frantically trying to remember the feel of them so I could figure out which pair to put him in. I think I chose the right pair. But man alive did I feel emotionally drained after that.

But once I had chosen the clothes I had to think about his shoes. I know he loved his brown shoes but he also loved his timberlands. I worried if Luke would be ok with his best pair of timberlands being burned but then I thought...what am I going to do with them and isn't it better for him to be wearing them? When someone dies you're never prepared for the tasks that you have to do. So when I die I am telling you all to bury me in my wedding dress or any other pretty dress so that you don't have to go through the same experience that I did. It's soul destroying to look through Luke's clothes, remembering him in them and where we were or what we were doing, whilst also knowing that these clothes will never be worn again. I have a whole wardrobe of clothes that will forever stand empty and absent of Luke's warmth. Life is an absolute bitch.

I was attempting to arrange a trip to New York in the summer but everyone is busy, which just shows again how lost I am without Luke. :( I'm tempted to just go on my own and see what happens. I think it will be particularly sad without Luke there and even sadder that I'm on my own but I really want to go and it was an adventure that Luke and I were suppose to do, so I kinda feel like I owe it to him to go. Our lives really weren't suppose to be this way. How is he dead?? 

It is now 01:50 and I'm still wide awake on the sofa. Sleeping clearly isn't something my body thinks it needs. Aargh everything is so frigging hard!! In 37 days I should be getting married to Luke. But this isn't happening anymore. I am now thinking about what I will do on our wedding day. I am not looking forward to that day. :(

xx

WHAT THE ACTUAL F&^K?????

This year, 2014, is suppose to be the year when all becomes better. It is suppose to be the climb up and out of the fog. The pain experienced after Dad is indescribable. The hole that is left is as gaping and wide today as it was when Dad was stolen from us. Time has not healed. But this year we were adapting. We were renewing the way we lived. Me and Luke were engaged and we bought our first home together in June and we were planning our wedding at the end of this year: 23rd December 2014 and our honeymoon to New York!!!! We had the perfect lives, the perfect relationship. We had everything. We had happiness and each other and we had our home and a future as man and wife. We had it all. HAD.

Luke, My Perryman has been killed. There is no more us. There are no more words of love. There are no more tears of laughter. There are no more crazy dances or our silly little private jokes and sayings. There is no more warmth. There are no more smiles or promises for our future. There are no more talks of, 'when we're married'. or 'on our honeymoon,' or 'next year we will...' or 'let's go and do...' There are no more hugs or kisses or curling up on the sofa today. There are no more races into bed. There is no more future.

There is darkness and fear and pain. A pain even more painful than what I experienced with Dad. I didn't think it was possible to hurt more than I did after Dad. But God was I wrong. I didn't even know it was possible to feel this amount of pain and still stand. This pain is shattering. My heart, my soul, my love, my everything that makes me me is shattered. It's gone. I feel sick; the kind of sick that feels like an anchor in the pit of my stomach, that's been pieced through my heart dragging my heart downwards. It's a hard block that is so heavy it steals my breath away and I have to fight to breathe. And it hurts. Oh God it hurts. But ask me how I'm doing and I'll tell you I'm Ok.

Luke was 26. 26!!!! How the fuck is that fair? He is the most amazing man to have ever entered into my life and I love him. My whole future was Luke. He was my everything and I love him with everything and I was so lucky to have him. He was my everything. And now he is gone and I am left with nothing. The house is filled with emptiness. It's a lost space and what am I suppose to do? I know that time does not heal and that scares the shit out of me. When people tell me that it will get better in time I actually have to hold back the urge to scream at them. TIME DOESN'T HEAL SHIT!!!! It's been 4 weeks today since Luke was stolen from me and that crushing, smashing stabbing feeling of that night is still as vivid and jammed in my throat tonight as it was four weeks ago. Time does not heal, so do not believe the lie that it does.

Losing your future is completely different to losing my Dad. And unless you've been in this exact same position: 69 days from being married to your best friend with your whole lives ahead of you, only to have that stripped away in a blink of an eye, do not tell me you know my pain. Because you do not. You can not even begin to imagine it. You may feel a huge loss because he was a friend but he was not your future. You may feel like you understand because you've lost a loved one but you don't know shit. Unless you are stood here in my shoes, in this life with the love that Luke and I had, please do not tell me you understand. Because I am living this pain and this life and even I do not understand. Please be there for me with hugs and kindness and the jokes that we always laugh at but don't tell me it will be ok. It will never be ok. Will I survive this? Yes- simply because there is no other option. But life will not be ok and I will not be ok,

Luke's death has demonstrated that even in an amazing relationship like ours, where we told each other daily and repeatedly how much we loved one another, you will ask, "Did they know how much I loved them?" Or "Why did we have that silly argument?" Or "Why did we sit on the sofa watching soaps instead of having amazing sex?" Or "Why when he came in from nights at 3am, did I choose to sleep and not attempt to be intimate and make love?" And it's at this moment you need to have a word with yourself. It's because you're human!!! It's part of a relationship, just relaxing in each others' company. Why did I choose to sleep at 3am? Because that's life and I had to be up for work at 7. Romantic? No. Practical and part of life? Yes. Does that make me a bad fiance? Does it mean I didn't love him? No. And those moments do NOT define the love between two people. It doesn't define the love or the value of US. I just have to hope and pray that Luke did know how much I loved him because there is nothing that I can do to change that now and constantly analysing every single part of the relationship is not going to fix a thing. I know that I showed him I loved him. I hope it was enough.

The majority of the support and love shown in those first two weeks was phenomenal and a huge help but it does filter away because life takes over. It's hard to grasp that but time does not stand still and neither do the lives of your friends. I will say, however, that if you're going to support someone grieving, don't do it because you want gossip and something to talk about. Don't ask for a catch up because you want to know the ins and outs of what has happened. Because the truth is, if you're a real friend you'll already know. Don't ask for a catch up so you can see how I'm doing. Because again, if you're a friend you'll know exactly how I'm doing. Even if I tell you I'm fine or ok with a smile on my face. You will know how I am doing.

Death is a minefield. There is the emotional side. The physical side. And the paperwork. Man alive is there a lot of paperwork. The cancellation conversations are the hardest. Explaining again and again and again to different people; to the banks, to car insurances, to mortgage companies, to the church to cancel a wedding, to the venue, to the florists, to the wedding car company, to the bridal shop...to everyone why life has to be cancelled is emotionally and physically draining. You become the person comforting those you're telling because they find that news upsetting. HOW DOES THAT WORK???? But then the banks, and insurances and mortgage companies require evidence and need details and documents and forms to be signed and counter signed and original copies and certified copies of other documents to be sent and then more phone calls follow that up. If drowning in grief doesn't kill me then drowning in the paperwork certainly will! So much to do but no energy to do it. Paperwork that needs to be filled in accurately is hard at the best of times, but when you're running basic survival skills on auto-pilot with a blank mind it's suffocating. I'm coping by using post it notes but even this method has begun to fail me. What will I do once all of the paperwork is done? What is there to do then?

The best advice I have received...

"Do not think about the future. Live in the now. Think of this minute and what you will do."

This has helped. Living by the hour is hard, but living by the minute I can do. I say...what do I need to do right now? And sometimes the answer is to curl up on the sofa and hide away under the duvet. That is ok. Sometimes it is stay here and hug monkey and cry. That is ok. Sometimes it is..put my cup in the sink. Or put on the kettle. Or re-fill the hot water bottle. This is ok too. It may even be as simple as...move - move to the other sofa, to the kitchen, to upstairs. These things may not seem like big steps or anything challenging but when your everything has been violently turned into nothing, these things are huge. The biggest and hardest struggle of the everyday routines is showering. Silly really isn't it? But showering signifies the start of another new day without Luke. It signifies the beginning of yet another day that Luke will not see and I have to fight through. Luke should be here.

I find myself asking again...where does God fit into all of this? Right in the fucking middle is my conclusion. I have faith that there is some reason for all of this. Something that none of us can see or understand. If there isn't a reason then this really is a fucked up world and there really is little point in the things that we do.

Luke should be here. I should be cuddled up on the sofa with him, laid on his chest with his arms around me. I should be telling him that I love him a little bit...A LOT...but instead I'm sat next to his casket. And I'm reminded of how cruel and unpredictable life is. Things are always too good to be true. When everything is perfect, something will always go wrong. :'(

Life really does go on

So I figured I should write again. It has been an exceptionally long time since the last time I wrote. I'm not sure how life has gone on but it has. It will be two years this July since Dad was taken from us. All the people who state that time is a healer and that the feeling gets better in time are wrong. time doesn't heal. It doesn't get easier and the pain does not lessen. What time does is it gives you no option but to find a way to adapt and change to the new feeling. It gives you no option but to find a new way of getting through the day. It hurts as much today as it did all those months ago. There is such a huge whole in the family it is quite hard to explain. It just isn't the same.

Lots has happened since Dad died, which is why the title of this blog is "life really does go on." We have learned that. Even when you think the world should stop. It doesn't. Life goes on regardless of the tragedies or pain. It just goes on and we have no choice but to get swept along with it. 

There have been some very happy moments, which makes me feel guilty because I don't think I should feel happiness ever again. My younger brother became a Dad. My big brother graduated from university with a first degree and I got engaged! I have also bought a house with Luke this very week! These are some great things that have happened and I am happy, but at the same time it is gutting to know that Dad hasn't seen any of it. It is unfair knowing this. Sometimes I forget that he wasn't here for these momentous occasions and hat hurts more than I can describe in words. My Dad won't be walking me down the aisle or giving me away. I won't get to hear his father of the bride speech or see his face when he sees me in my dress! I won't get to show him our new home. Dad didn't even see the home that I am currently living in with Luke. How unfair is life? Yet with this unfairness comes many things that I can be grateful for and it is these things that I thank God for. It is these things that reminds me that God hasn't forgotten us. 

So where does God fit into life and Cancer? I honestly don't know. He didn't heal my Dad like he was suppose to. So I don't know. I haven't given up though because life will be full of tragedies and pain, and it is important to have faith.

A letter to my Dad

You shouldn't have been taken. You should have been saved. You should have been healed. There are so many things that I want to say to you and to share with you. There are still so many days when all I want is a hug from my Dad. But you've been stolen from us and I'm not sure what to do. There are things I'd love to tell you because they make me laugh and I wish so much that I could see you laugh again too. I'm into my third year of teaching. It's the same as always! I sometimes wonder what advice you would be giving me. I feel as though I just want to quit and run away to another country to experience something different and to see the world, and although I think I can hear your voice saying, "you go for it girl," I'm also pretty sure you'd be making me think carefully about any big changes. So I'm waiting to see how this week pans out. If it's the same as always...I'm going to start making a move. I really hope you're going to be there looking out for me.

I'd love for you to come back to us. For this to all be a big mistake. I know God doesn't make mistakes but I'm hoping that he'll do a double check and realise He made one this time when He took you from us. And that God will work some miracles and give you back to us healed.

Your chair still has the indentation of you in it. Sometimes when I get up for work I keep hoping I'll look in the living room and see you there. But of course you never are anymore and you never will be again. I wish God would give you back. I wish I could tell you all about my travel plans to America next summer and then tell you all the crazy things Luke and I got up to. But I can't. I can't see you laughing anymore. I want you to know how much we all love you; how fantastic you were as a Dad; how home just isn't the same without you here.


I miss you so much Dad. I love you forever and always xxxxx

Finding a way to bring Dad home...

Dad has been gone for far too long and I think it is time that You gave him back. You've had your time with my Dad. We've had our time with him gone. And now we would all like him home, with us, where he belongs. My Dad's chair sits emtpy when it should be filled with his body. Our house is quiet, when it should be filled with his laughter. His motorbike is still, when it should be zooming at great speeds with Dad's riding. 

You have the ability to turn back time and make this all a dream. You can alter the world and bring Dad home, where he belongs. You don't need to have my Dad just yet because we need him. I would give you anything, God, if you could bring Dad back to us all healed from the cancer. You can make this Dad-shaped absence all a bad dream, where we can wake up and see Dad back again.

Please find a way to bring my Dad home.....

Life is a sweet lie...death is the painful truth

I don't know what to write. I don't know what to say. My Dad was suppose to be healed. He was suppose to be fixed and cured. On Monday 16th July this year my Dad, who is the most amazing man ever, died. That week is such a blur that it's hard to recall what happened when. It's hard to recall what was said between us.
My Mum and Dad had been on a holiday to Cornwall. They'd had a good time and although dad had some really bad days he had managed. He had started to have difficulties swallowing food, no matter how soft it was and he was losing weight. When they came back from their holiday, I remember dad looking quite frail but we all thought that it was because he'd been walking loads and doing a lot; that maybe he was just exhausted and needed a rest. Dad's pain began to get worse, so he phoned St Barnabas hospice for help. They had helped him before, so we were all hoping they would help him again.
We were expecting Dad to go in and get his pain meds adjusted and then for him to be out in a week or so. He went in on the Thursday 5th July. They had started to sort out his meds and he was laughing and joking with us. Yes he was still in excrutiating pain and I hated seeing him hurting so much but we all thought he was coming home. On the 13th July Mum got a phonecall and I left work early. The doctor had seen dad and it was bad news. They explained that Dad was deteriorating very quickly and that we should prepare for the worst. I asked how long they thought he had and the nurse explained that they could not give a time because everyone is different. I asked whether they were talking months or weeks. She said, 'You'd be lucky if it was weeks.'  I am pretty sure that I forgot how to breathe and I wanted to say something but the huge lump in my throat stopped me.

I remember going back into the room with Dad. He looked so frail. He was chatting to us, although he was drifting in and out of consciousness because of the drugs. He cracked a few jokes. I was hoping so much that the nurses had got it wrong. It was hard to talk to Dad because I couldn't control the wobble in my voice and I didn't want him to hear that I was upset. I prayed so hard that night for my Dad to be ok. We went back on Saturday and he wasn't much better. He told me that he loved me. I told him that I loved him. Again it was so hard not to cry. We had joked previously that no one wants a bunch of bawlers at their bedside. As I sat there holding his hand I prayed for God to give my Dad his love, to feel peace and to be fixed. I have no idea whether any of it happened. I know that God didn't fix my Dad.

On Saturday evening I text my Dad telling him that I loved him so much and that I was praying for him. I wasn't expecting a reply but he did reply. I cried so hard because I knew that this would be the last text that I would get. I still have his text on my phone but I can't read it yet. It makes me cry so much. I love my Dad and he is the best Dad ever.

On Sunday 15th we all went to the hospice. We moved Dad into a private room. He was in so much pain but he had been able to eat some grapes, so I thought that we had got lucky and God was actually doing something. But Dad didn't get any better from that point. Mum and I stayed at the hospice that night. I didn;t want to leave him. He shouldn't have to do anything on his own. He thanked me for staying and said that he loved me and gave me a kiss. Mum and I swapped shifts in the night so that she could sleep. I held his hand.
On Monday 16th he wasn't able to stand by himself anymore because he just wasn't strong enough. He was all bone. It was so odd. It had all happened so quickly. He only went in for pain relief.

Dad started to become restless and wanted to go to the toilet but he wasn't strong enough to push the wee out. So the nurse wanted to put in a catheter. She said Icould stay in the room but I said to said that I would leave, so he could have his dignity. Mum went in at that point and I had breakfast that the nurses gave me. Once they had got Dad dressed, I went back in and we were all talking. Dad wanted to be in the chair so we got him in it. Dad was very restless. He wanted to be out of the chair and it took a lot of nurses to fight him back into it. The nurse had previously explained that towards the end of life people get extremely restless and start to fight it. This was what we thought was happening to Dad and it was heart breaking to see. This was my Dad. I wanted to fight for him but there was nothing that Icould do.

Dad was sedated because of his pain, so they gave him some stronger pain killers. Dad didn't speak again. He didn't smile again. He didn't laugh again. He didn't tell us another joke. I was holding his hand all the time and talking to him. I told him that everything was going to be ok and that it was ok. At 6.58pm my Dad stopped breathing. He was so still. He took his final breath seconds later and a huge Dad shaped hole has been left. I wish so much that he would come back and fill it; that this nightmare would end and my Dad would be alive and well. I miss you so much Dad. xxxxxxxxxx