Bunny who?

Why? Who? What's this blog about? It's about MEEEE!

Being a Widow

My experience of dealing with grief as a widow


About Jane's brain tumour journey: Astrocytoma.co.uk

Trip away part 1: Green Man Festival in Wales

22 August 2011

The Green Man festival was great. I worked, met up with H and O who were also there. I went to bed around midnight every night. I was busy and the times I was on my own were not too bad. A few tears every day. 

Most upsetting was te moment I was relaxing in the sauna (yes, a sauna at a festival) when suddenly, fom the main stage, came the first few bars of Crowded House's "Fall at your feet". They were using it for the sound check. So the first music I heard at the festival was the song  played when I finally said goodbye to you in the crematorium.  I don't believe in dead people sending messages but it was certainly weird. And emotional. So I cried in the sauna. I guess people thought it was sweat, not tears.

I cried when I spotted a Chinese lantern in the sky. I remembered when we lit one in Scotland in February. You wrote your wish on it: Cured of tumour. I knew it was never going to happen. To me, these lanterns now represent desperation, hoping against hope, the razor-sharp pain I felt when you wished for a cure. Did you know that was impossible? Or did you still have hope? Did you know the end was near? Did you count the days? How did you feel? Were you angry? Were you scared? Or did you accept it? When did you start realising how bad it was? When did you stop knowing?

I break down every time I think of that. How, the months before your death, you knew it was not going well but were unable to talk about it. Did you know? Or were you blissfully unaware and innocently hopeful? I hope you were as the alternative is just too painful for me to contemplate.


tammy wheat said...

I hope that Jane and my "Diane" are friends in heaven and are proud of the way we took care of them and loved them. I know that goes against your beliefs, and I have lost much faith after this happend to Diane. Sometimes, the thought it could exist brings a little comfort. (((((((hugs to you)))))))))))))

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