I arranged the funeral yesterday – thanks Dad for coming with me. It is on Friday 3rd May at 1000 at the Chiltern Crematorium in Amersham – everyone is welcome.
It was surreal, almost like it was happening to someone else. In fact the the whole day yesterday was surreal – I registered Claire’s death and that didn’t seem real either. I keep feeling as though they’ve all made some awful mistake and got the wrong person, Claire could still be alive and they’ve all accidentally switched the records over.
I know that’s not the case as her Mum and Sister went to see her in the chapel of rest – but for me… there’s a glimmer of hope.
That isn’t the case I know that, but part of me hopes it is. I think when they return her rings to me that will be the final sign that it really was my beautiful Claire that it happened to.
Every day I write this I cry. I’m crying again now – 7am Saturday morning and I’m off.
So what part of me is holding on to the hope that it wasn’t Claire?
The part of me that adored her?
The part of me that unconditionally trusted her?
The part of me that liked to cuddle her – yep that’s the one… how do I know? Well, writing that set me off again so it must be!
I’ve not thought yet about what I will miss the most as that feels too negative, but to be honest the thing I’ll really miss is holding her. Emotional, & practical support I can get from others, but her warm and friendly cuddle? Nothing can replace that.
I need to write a letter to her:
I’ve not written anything to you yet, I’ve shouted a bit at home at you but not written. The kids have written each day on your Facebook wall, but me… I couldn’t face writing to you until now.
Sweetheart, I love you so much. And right now I miss you so much. You were my world, and still are my world.
I drew my strength from seeing you each day and I only realise now how much strength you imparted simply by smiling at me.
I used to love our cuddles, the softness of your skin always reminded me of our first kiss back in ’87 – yep, every time I held you I remembered that day – I don’t think I ever told you that.
You were everything to me, no-one will ever know what a special relationship we had, only we could ever know that.
Do you remember that chat we had in the pub on the beach in West Bay last weekend? That was our last night out together and we talked about it being our new ‘local’ if we moved there. I remember almost every word of that conversation, it was deep – not some meaningless drivel but a conversation that really meant something. I loved our chats.
Thank you for the last 25 years together.
Thank you for ALWAYS being there.
Thank you for not judging.
Thank you for your kindness, gentleness and tenderness.
Right now at this moment I’ve run out of words. I’ve no idea how to finish this except with a huge (((((HUG))))) and a xxxxKISSxxxx.
Goodnight my sweetheart.