Little big things

The Husband and I - ten years ago - 2013

I have, over the last few months, worked hard at "doing" normal. Part of that has been getting on with things. What I've not done, though, and I must, is sort through The Husband's "stuff". I've done very little of that - in our shared office and in the wardrobe.

It's difficult. Because. For seven weeks, he was coming home. I had to adjust to being in our space - with all his things - while I waited for him to come home. I did. But. In the firm belief that he'd be back home and our life together would continue.

Then he didn't and will. Never.

Because of that nearly two-month patch, there seemed no urgency or point to sorting anything. Oh, if you're wondering, I have sorted the papers and things I've had to.

Then, two things happened.

On Monday night, I had a vivid dream and I woke up on Tuesday morning and his warm, gentle presence was palpable. But. The Husband was not there. I remembered: he is dead.

I cannot describe the emptiness. It's not being on my own. It's not being alone. It's the absence of the presence and the being able to say what jumps into your head. Just. Because.

Tears haven't been far most of the last few days.

Then, yesterday. South Africa won the Rugby World Cup. Love of rugby, believe it or not, is something we both shared. He was a good - and senior - schoolboy player, and would have continued had he not been injured. I, on the other hand, have been a spectator - also going back to my school days. We were both looking forward - with great expectation - to this tournament.

The Husband and I at Newlands to watch rugby in 2009

Yesterday, our usual crowd gathered to watch. Again. Nerves were shattered. It's also been really weird watching rugby without him - especially the last four weeks as the Bokke got closer and closer to the final. Usually mild mannered, he'd be shouting at the players and the ref, and...generally really be in the moment match.

Last night was bittersweet. For the first time in 23 years, he wasn't commentating the match or the first person to hug me - or who he hugged - after the win.

It's the not sharing of those really little things that is so big.

Doing "normal" is not really "normal" at all. Yet. I wonder if it ever will be, again.

Until next time
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa


Photo: Selma
Post script

If this post might seem familiar, it's because I'm doing two things:

  • re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine....?
  • and "re-capturing" nearly two years' worth of posts.
I blog to the Hive blockchain using a number of decentralised applications.
  • From Wordpress, I use the Exxp Wordpress plugin. If this rocks your socks, click here or on on the image below to sign up.


Original artwork: @artywink
  • lastly, graphics are created using partly my own photographs, images available freely available on @hive.blog and Canva.
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Dear Fiona, I can't imagine how hard it must be to have the task of removing Tom's things from your work area ahead of you :(
I hope that in time you will feel back to normal, maybe not with the old things, but with new things to add.
The first picture is beautiful.
I send you a big hug. 🤗

Emptiness definitely consumes one at certain occasions, watched the rugby last night for the first time since my brother passed five years ago. Another who loved the game, sure the ref could hear him across the oceans wide..., no some things in life are never the same, so cry when you need, it is never the same.

@tipu curate

value is centered around what you love and when its not there, almost everything may seem unreasonable. nevertheless, you have to move on before you incure emotional trauma which can stir health issues. Really sorry for your loss.

Awe Fiona, I echo every word you say, exactly exactly my feelings!
When this year started, I would never in my worst nightmare have believed if someone said we would both end the year alone. We can laugh, smile, find enjoyment in life, but the emptiness will never go away.
PS Those are lovely photos of the two of you❤

I can't even imagine those empty spaces without him, or perhaps I can, which makes it all the more devastating. Hugs xx

This is the kind of stories I absolute love to read. For me, this is humanity. That's why I falling in love of blogging format. Personal, meaningful, passional. Bravo, my dear friend, just bravooo!!! @fionasfavourites