Today is the day Jane started dying, last month. This morning, I walked in to the gym at exactly the time her breathing changed on Sunday morning and when I called the nurse. I sat in the changing room and cried a little bit. Then a woman walked in and gave me a strange look. I wanted so much to tell her why I was crying so that someone would understand. But I thought: the poor woman is a complete stranger and it is a bit harsh to inflict this upon her. So I turned my face away so as to not 'force' her to say something. During the gym session, I recalled every minute of our last day together. It already seems ages ago. Much much longer than just 30 days. The last 24 hours of Jane's life went by so fast and yet today, time seems to drag on.
Strangely enough, today has been the most productive day since Jane died. Not sure if it is related or escapism or what.
Got to the gym at 9.30, worked for about an hour. Then I had a cup of tea with H. When I got back to the flat, I wrote up a To Do list and did most of the things on it! I completed the Learn Direct Skills Checkers (A maths test and an English test) that told me I do not need to do a maths or English course and that I should just book the test right away. Which I then did. Sorted out some probate stuff and completed some more forms.
But I still managed to avoid making a shopping list and going to he supermarket. Maybe for now, I should have my shopping delivered so I can avoid the depressing place that is the supermarket.
When Jane was ill, we were home almost all the time. Due to her steroids, she was constantly hungry. Since I knew she was going to die, I felt unable to refuse her the food she asked for.
And she asked for a lot of food. I did try to keep things somewhat limited but I failed most of the time. Mostly because I found it hard to motivate myself to cook. So I got fat and Jane got fatter. So perhaps the fact Jane was so large when she died was my fault, rather than just the steroids. Sorry Jane.
In any case, I was of course not immune to all this fat and food and in 9 months, I have gone from a size 38 to a size 44. From 65 to 78 kilos. A whopping 12s4!!
All the sites about widows say that most people lose weight during their period of mourning. REALLY? I am seeing none of that. In fact, I am getting fatter and fatter.
So I signed up for the gym. Did I mention I hate he gym? I hate the gym. It is a pointless waste of time. Actually, not pointless. But soulless. And sweaty.
However, I will get through this and get back into the clothes I used to wear. The stuff Jane loved to see me wear.
One downside though: As Jane gained weight over the past 2 years, our wardrobes were no longer interchangeable. If I lose all this weight, I won't be able to wear the XL t-shirts Jane wore in her last few months anymore... maybe I'll stay fat.