Damn it, i went for a booked in session only to find that the home hadn’t put my name in and some other visitor was sitting in the special cubicle.
i didn’t make a fuss as Bridget hardly wanted to see me anyway and quickly turned away after taking her flowers. It was a bit of a blow really as this is happening from time to time and i wonder how long it’s going to be until she just doesn’t want to see me at all.
I could question why i go at all given the level of recognition i get. It’s the hanging on to the final threads of what Bridget was and i’m trying desparately to hold on every time i go.
Now it’s over 14 months since Bridget left here for the home and i’m settling into a regimen of being on my own, and slowly the familiarity of Bridget as my wife is fading. It’s like she’s died but hasn’t and we grieve all the time over what we’ve lost.
I’m finding family and friends are treating my life as normal, they have to be prompted to talk about her and cannot really know what’s it’s like for me now. If i get really upset there’s an expectation that i shouldn’t as “ time has passed on now”. So i grieve in private, cry and rant on my own. It’s so difficult, isn’t it, when only you can really know what you meant to each other in the good times.
i didn’t make a fuss as Bridget hardly wanted to see me anyway and quickly turned away after taking her flowers. It was a bit of a blow really as this is happening from time to time and i wonder how long it’s going to be until she just doesn’t want to see me at all.
I could question why i go at all given the level of recognition i get. It’s the hanging on to the final threads of what Bridget was and i’m trying desparately to hold on every time i go.
Now it’s over 14 months since Bridget left here for the home and i’m settling into a regimen of being on my own, and slowly the familiarity of Bridget as my wife is fading. It’s like she’s died but hasn’t and we grieve all the time over what we’ve lost.
I’m finding family and friends are treating my life as normal, they have to be prompted to talk about her and cannot really know what’s it’s like for me now. If i get really upset there’s an expectation that i shouldn’t as “ time has passed on now”. So i grieve in private, cry and rant on my own. It’s so difficult, isn’t it, when only you can really know what you meant to each other in the good times.