Ikea

We have been busy "functioning" all day. Cleaning the house, buying some stuff, changing light bulbs and other things necessary when we haven't been here for a while. But both of us are in shit state, excuse the French. Marion wished she was dead this evening, she finds the pain so hard to bare. And I know what she means. I feel a fire of pain, grief and panic in my stomach and chest. I feel sick almost the whole time. Kay is everywhere and nowhere.

This afternoon we went to Ikea to get some bits and pieces. While walking through the bedding department Nattie pointed to a big wall display and said, "Look, there's Kay's duvet cover and pillowcase". It was, the same one that I'd soaked in tears & snot on Saturday morning. The one that Kay loved. The one that I spent a good hour or more lying on. Oh dear. I didn't know what to do, caught myself staring at it. Nattie said something to me, but I replied that it was too painful for me to look at and walked on.

Last Saturday week, Marion said that she didn't want to come away because she didn't want to leave Kay behind and I didn't really understand what she meant. But as last week went on I started to get an increasing 'vacuum' feeling in my stomach. Didn't know why. But on Saturday as I was packing my stuff I had the overwhelming urge to go and lie on Kay's bed. I've avoided going in her bedroom except incidentally, but after I was done packing I felt very tired and went and lay on her bed. And then it struck me, what Marion meant about leaving her behind. And I lost it completely. I cried harder and deeper than ever in my life before. I was completely lost to grief, for the first time ever. And now I don't feel stronger as a result, the contrary in fact. I feel the pain and grief more acutely than before. And I understand even less why she had to go. And I feel even more strongly that this is not the right ending for her life. The strong and the brave and the fit and the courageous should win their battles and Kay is all of these things and more.

I so regret not having being able to talk to her about death, not being able to say goodbye to her. That her last minutes alive were minutes of terror and fighting. That we never had a peaceful moment when we could exchange final promises of eternal love. That we were rushed into an inadequate parting forever. That my last memory of her alive was the anger and fear on her face as she was put into a coma. I'm never going to be able to rid myself of those memories.

Maybe we're trying to take the grief process to quickly, would be typical for Marion & I. But then, it can't go fast enough, the pain and suffering it's causing. We're both at the end of our tethers. I think for the first time that Marion realised just how badly I'm suffering, on Saturday. She said later that my pain broke her heart.

So this is how we are. Terrible, fragile, desperate, bereaved, grief stricken, shocked, empty, full, clinging to the wreckage of our lives.