If life throws you a lemon...

...make lemonade! (Joan Collins)









In the past I have often wondered about this phrase, what does it mean? Starting to write this blog has shown me that a lot of the time I have caught the lemons and made some delicious lemonade.

There are some situations that you just cannot make the best of. For example losing your husband, best friend and soul mate when life together is just beginning.

Matthew and I had 1 son and had just found out that I was expecting another baby, after losing a baby a couple of months before. We lived in a lovely area and both had jobs we enjoyed. Most of all we had each other.

Matthew collapsed on Rememberance Sunday 2001 and within weeks we found out that he had an incurable cancer. For 11 months he received treatment to prolong his life, but as in many cases of cancer, the disease was too strong and Matthew died peacefully on 30th October 2002. Ross was 2, Anya was 3 months and I was 29 years old. We had been married for 5 short years.

I have been thinking about this a lot, as I know someone who has been recently widowed, it has bought all of those memories of the initial feelings back.

I was with Matthew when he died, he had slipped into a coma and was being lifted to slide a special mattress under him. He made a funny noise and he was gone. At that moment all the strain and pain and sadness went from his face. After a lot of pain and struggle, Matthew was finally at peace.

I cannot remember my first reaction, but I remember that I was left alone with Matthew, and it was very quiet. I also remember bringing Ross and Anya to say goodbye, it meant nothing to them, but it was very important to me that I could tell them later on that they had said goodbye.

That day my house was full of people coming to say goodbye. I sorted out Matthew's favourite shirt, and trousers and I made sure that his boxers and socks were the ones he had got on Father's Day. Silly maybe, as he was being cremated, but it was vitally important to me that Matthew wasn't in his pyjamas.

I know that I didn't cry. I went into organising mode. Matthew's mum and I went to the funeral directors and made the arrangements. Peter, our vicar came and made arrangements. I spent ages on the phone ringing people and telling them that Matthew had died and then ringing them with details of the funeral. Organising the funeral was not too difficult, Matthew had stated what he wanted and had marked several songs in the hymn books.

The tears didn't come for 10 days, and it was the kindness of someone I didn't know that well. We arrived at the church in the pouring rain and as we got out of the car I saw the midwife who had looked after me during my 1st pregnancy and the midwife who had delivered Ross and Anya. They wrapped me in a huge hug and that was it, the damn was broken.

I don't remember much of the funeral, I spent most of it in tears looking at the box beside me, the box that contained my husband, and all my hopes for our future.

After the funeral I went home to mt parents and stayed the night, I could not face being alone. Christmas passed in a blur, as did my 30th birthday. I made sure the children were ok, I ate, I went through the motions but I was numb.

Every so often the pain would break through and I would cry, usually at some stupid time in the early hours. I've often asked if I was angry, I can honestly say no. hat would be the point of getting angry? Who would I get angry at? Matthew? He didn't ask to die. God? He had given Matthew and I the strength to carry on, He had helped me get through that first week, I was thankful to Him not angry.

Grief is a strange creature, it can make you feel sad, tearful, frantic, disinterested but worse of all numb. Not just numb to the sadness but to everything. I couldn't enjoy my children, I don't remember many of Anya's firsts. She asked me the other day what her first word was, it made me feel bad to tell her that I cannot remember.

Grief shaped my life for many months, now it just adds shape once in a while. I like to think of my life as a book, in chapters. Each chapter leads to the next and builds on the story, what has happened in 1 chapter is not forgotten and will be referred to throughout the story, maybe not in each chapter, but every so often.

This post is quite random and probably doesn't make sense, but it has taken me a week to write, I may well come back and rewrite, butfor now I will publish.