One year on

It’s been a year since my whole world fell apart.   The first raw wounds have healed over, although it still seems preposterous that he’s not around.  A big part of my life has been torn away, and I am learning to live without it - but it will always be missing. My world is being rebuilt, in a somewhat different shape. 

Some things are still painful - I can't watch some TV programmes because they were so much a part of our daily routine.  I'm talking about the quiz programmes that are on ITV at teatime, things like the Chase or Tipping Point .    It hurts that we won't be doing some of the things we were looking forward to doing together, like going to see the next Dr Strange film, or taking our Silver ballroom dance tests.  

Twelve months ago, I held David’s hand and looked into his eyes as, around us, doctors and nurses were moving swiftly and purposefully and the numbers on the monitor went in the wrong direction. I whispered in his ear that if he needed to go, that was OK, and then it was over.  I picked up his belongings and went home - I could have stayed in the room for a while, but David - his spirit, the part that made him David - wasn’t there.  I desperately needed to be at home.  There’s a scene in the film Ghost where Demi Moore just sits staring into space - that’s pretty much what I did at first.  

Then I started to get bits of evidence that he hadn’t gone far.

Some of it was subtle, and easily explained away as coincidence - I’d turn on the radio and a particular song would be playing, I’d notice a rosebush in bloom with my favourite colour flowers where I hadn’t noticed one before.   I went looking for something among his books the other day, and a piece of paper slipped out  - it was a handfasting vow, and it felt very much like a message from him (and it did make me cry a little bit).  

These were things that convinced me, but wouldn’t seem extraordinary to anyone else. 

Some are a bit more dramatic, though.  I’ve written about some of them in this blog.  Beginning with the re-appearing SIM card and the gust of wind that set the funeral car alarm off when the officiant went against express instructions at his funeral, there have been some odd things happening.  Lately I've been finding peseta coins about the house - I've never been to Spain, by the way.  The missing bottle of gin has returned, too - it was in a place that had been thoroughly searched several times.

I’ve been told by a clairvoyant that he’s learning the ropes so that he can make things happen (that would be typical of him - I can picture him making a right nuisance of himself until he found out what he wanted to know!)  Another told me that they'd been shown two stalks of wheat growing together as a message for me.  I thought this was symbolic - until I went out into the garden for the first time in a very long while, and found a small patch of wheat growing in the jungle that has sprung up while my back was turned (I definitely didn’t plant it).  It just so happened that I’d been wondering where I could get a few stalks of wheat, too.

His latest trick, though, is on an entirely different level.

I’ve recently given in and got some smart speakers (as the result of an offer I couldn’t refuse on Amazon Prime Day).  One of the things that the digital assistant can do mine’s called “Computer” so I can pretend I’m on the USS Enterprise - listen, it’s my life and I can do what I want) is to call your phone when you’ve put it down on something black and you can’t find it, as happened a few days ago.

I found my phone when it rang (it was right next to me all the time), but didn’t realise at once that it had gone to Voicemail.  After 20 seconds or so, I noticed my phone was still connected and got the computer to hang up, then went back into my voicemail to delete the message.

The only voice on the recording should have been me, saying “Computer, hang up” at the end of the message.  

At the beginning of the message is a very clear man’s voice saying “Hi there!”

I’ve played this to several people who knew David well and they’ve had no doubt that it’s his voice.  There's a link to the recording here.  

I started this blog as a form of therapy.  In the first days and weeks, it helped to share the happy memories, but as time has gone on, I’ve found I needed it less. I may, or may not, continue to post.  If you've enjoyed reading it, I'm glad;  and in any case, thank you for taking the time to visit.