It just stops?

Last week was bad, I felt that I was away from Arthur for too long and it was time to visit him, in hospital. I spent a few hours in each day at the house alone, packing. With a 'project' to focus on I could just remain numb and do one thing on a time. I held Arthur's Manchester United shirt, one that he wore so much in the last months, to my breast and cried as I remembered holding him to me, the hugs that had to be gentler as he become frailer, the last embrace as he died in my arms. I lay on the bed in his place and smelled the scent, fading day by day, of him on the pillows. I could not do it for long, with an ocean of pain lapping at the wall, like a flooded dam that needs only the gentlest agitation to send the water crashing over the top.


I despaired that meals I would never cook again for Arthur, the football matches we will never see together, the sweet tea I would never make for him again. I will never feel his touch on my hair again or a playful touch of my breast, followed by a cheeky grin.

I despair the things Arthur will not know, the Manchester United wins he will not see, the dogs he will no longer cuddle, the touch of my hand, the Christmas dinners and jokes we will never again share.

I do not understand this sudden severance, how can things just stop like that? I cannot comprehend it. Last week I was numb and just operating.

This week I am still not crying, I am just horrified by it all.