THESE are the darkest weeks. It’s coming up to two years
since I lost my beloved Diane and the pain of being without someone so special
doesn’t get any easier.
It seems to me the pain doesn’t diminish; it’s just the
ability to deal with it and manage it which improves over time. I feel the
sense of loss has increased, if anything. Every day that passes just confirms
how she’s not coming back, how this is what life is now, a life without Diane
to hold and, in a literal sense, lean on. The longer I am without her alongside
me, the greater the sadness that this is how it will always be.
Of course, I lean on her still emotionally and she is as
much a part of me in my heart and mind as she always was in life. But that
warmth of her next to me, that sense of comfort you get from having someone
there alongside you, that is still missing and the more it is missing, the more
lonely you feel.
I’m lucky that I am surrounded by good people, friends who
are supportive and who understand. I’m blessed to have my two beautiful doggies
Cassie and Bonny looking after me, caring for me. And I’m extra blessed to have
discovered running.
During the months after my first “fun” triathlon in Nantwich
in September, I admit I lost my way a bit. It was difficult to get motivated
and when I did run, it usually ended up in disappointment, a reminder that if
you neglect to train, your body will go backwards. All that progress you made
will be at risk. And yet you still can’t seem to convince yourself to knuckle
down and get back on track.
The winter will always be difficult for me. November 28 is
Diane’s birthday, and every year it marks the first of many sad anniversaries
that go through Christmas and finish on Valentine’s Day, the day in 2013 when I
said farewell to her at her funeral.
So we are in the thick of this dark period. But hope is
never far away. We all need hope. It’s what drives us on and makes us strive to
see what tomorrow will bring. No hope means no tomorrows.
Diane has reminded me this week of how much I have to look
forward to, how much we have to do together this year. And I have started to
get on with it. I have begun to feel re-motivated. The anniversary of her
passing on February 6, 2013 is fast approaching and as it nears, in a perverse
way, I feel her inspiring me again.
You’d think that would see me at my lowest. But strangely
no. Yes, these are dark days filled with sad anniversaries. But they are also
the days when I remember how courageous she was in those final weeks. How she
fought, the dignity she showed.
I held her hand constantly in those final days and I
remember now in the depths of this bleak time of the year, how that felt. And
it’s the same feeling I have today. I still feel her hand in mine and always will.
She is my inspiration and the power behind everything I do .
I’m writing this just as the sun comes up. Another dawn,
another tomorrow filled with hope. And hand in hand, Diane and I will continue
to strive to fill it. She is still making memories for me.
Selfishly, I have to now admit something. This blog entry is
not for you today. It is for me. It is for me to read to myself over and over
during the coming days to remind myself that Diane is still my whole life, my reason
to do more today than I did yesterday, to aim higher than ever before. To
honour her and do justice to her memory, I need to stop thinking ‘I can’t’ and make
damned sure ‘I can’.
So she’s at it again. Inspiring me. I’m back on track,
thanks to her. As usual, she is and has always been the force makes everything
I do possible.
And in this dark, bleak time of remembrance, that fills me
with renewed hope.
