Before it happens we think we know what it means to lose someone. I am not talking about a distant name that you grow up hearing; or a long lost relative; or even a friendly acquaintance. I am talking about the kind of loss where the person was woven into the start of your real history, your present and your future and is then brutally relegated to your past. The person who made you love you.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of such a loss for me, my children, my family – our friends.
What you also cannot know until it happens is that the concept of time becomes meaningless. This post is entitled “A Year On” deliberately to remind me that a year has passed. In reality, it feels like a few months since my life changed irretrievably, and I still have this unexplainable feeling that if I just shut my eyes or just be still for a moment I can go back and make everything the way it was. Go back and get my husband to tell him about this awful thing that happened.
However, I get out of bed every morning in the sure knowledge that the man I chose would not have married someone who would herself lie down and die and, thus, let her children and their potential go to hell. So, in that regard, he chose well.
I have no easy words for anyone suffering or who will suffer great loss. What I can say for sure is that, as shattering as it all seems (and is), the same fundamental and stark choice continues to exist. The choice of our response to any given situation.
I have chosen to be the person I was, since it is that person who attracted the most charismatic, intellectual and interesting man I am ever likely to know.
For those of you who knew him, and those of you who didn’t, do a little better tomorrow and do as he did as we negotiate the world. Take notice of someone who believes themselves unremarkable and, therefore, unnoticeable. It may not change your life but it could, potentially, change theirs.