Dear Readers,
Our
girls Mandy, Sally and Belinda more commonly known as Boo were absolutely
marvellous the way they supported me when my wife Gayle died a few weeks short
of our 50th wedding anniversary. Their efforts were particularly
commendable considering that I was in
Thanks
girls, thanks and thanks again. This is something even my dodgy memory will
never forget. While dealing with their own grief they worked as one to do their
best to see that I had as soft a landing as possible. The remarkable aspect of
this was that living with me was never a ‘piece of cake’ for everyone.
The magnificent trio Sally, Boo and Mandy |
When I instinctively starting talking to
her in the middle of the night there was
no one there.
When I needed her help to compile a shopping list before going to the supermarket there was no one there.
When I wanted her to check one of my blog posts before I published it there was no one there.
And when, just before the dawn of a sleepless night, I was sobbing uncontrollably like a tiny baby who had lost his dummy, it was just as well there was no one there to see the tears streaming down my face.
A hard bitten, former Sunday Times investigative journalist turn Private Eye is not supposed to cry…EVER.
When as a 22 year old I hitch-hiked alone right
through Africa and paddled 700 miles on the way by myself down the Congo River
in a dug out canoe there was nobody to fish me out if my tiny craft had gone
under, but that was nothing compare to the void there is when you lose your
closest companion of so many years.
God speed Gayley you
were definitely the best wife I ever had.
Regards to all of you and condolences
to those of you who have had a similar experience.
Jon
P.S. I accept that I am just one of
millions of people who have had to face this kind of reality, but I am sure you will all agree that it doesn’t
make it any easier.