28 April 2006 "The day we did not die"

Crisp copper leaves falling off the trees, US -  just another happy family enjoying a pizza under the trees at Col' Cacchio in Franschoek.  Appreciating the weak rays of a sallow sun.

Hours later I am standing on the side of the road, bewildered and confused - spat out of the belly of a runaway tanker, that within minutes violated my every expectation of a life lived "happily ever after". A monument of an angel, my only witness.  

That night sleep evaded me.  I wanted it to be the next day - and not the day my husband died.

For months/years, 9 to be exact it felt like I was having an "out of body" experience and could not kick grief on it's belly out of my life.

After his cremation, after all the guests had left, I walked around the house clutching the top of my arms, feeling chilly, gazing out the window watching the sun dusting long shadows on the lawn, waiting for something to happen.  To wake up and find Marco sitting next to me. 

I rushed to our wedding album, - Marco and I walking out of the church.  I closed the album quickly, not able to look at what was now a memory.

" You are strong."  " I really admire how you just carried on with you life."  they said. I had no choice, I had to be strong.  I had a two year old boy to raise.  Every time I cried, no-one came near me. 

Out for dinner, with an old friend one evening, a couple of months later, her husband phones whilst we were enjoying a glass of wine. "She is not acting like a widow", I hear her say.  I had no idea how I should be feeling or acting like a widow.  So I hid my sadness and mourning became my  dirty secret.

After three years, exhausted and raw I phoned my doctor, for I was planning my suicide.  Knowing I could not take Luca with me.  I started to deal with the messiness of mourning.  I have been sitting on the coach in my pyjamas, staring into space whilst Luca was asleep.  Sitting and waiting on death.

Some people kept their distance, fearing they would trigger emotion, or be responsible for causing a scene.

I hardly asked anyone anything about anything - making up words was hard - and when I was at the shopping centre or somewhere out, I was wondering where they found the words, when I saw people talking.  It was such an effort - so was washing my hair and getting out of bed.

And then one night his brother called. In  conversation he says that the sadness about his death was, that he died alone.  I could hardly breath as I battled to say a word, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth,  finally dropping the phone as I stumbled onto the floor.  Lying all curled up on the floor, tears fled down my cheeks, soaking my face, I fell asleep. Guilty because I survived.

Days turned into months of long and lonely nights.
Months turned into years of sad anniversaries, lonely Christmases, and just another New Year, wrestling with feelings of loneliness, anger,  confusion.

Yes, the light had gone out of mine and Luca's life for a long time.  Gradually Luca and I lit the fuse together... and we are learning to live a new life without my husband.

9 Years later,  I found personal growth,  reason to step forward again... one step at a time.
Now every day is a new day with a new beginning.  We welcome new experiences and new people into our lives... And we love.