I went to my Pilates class and a song played. It hit me; I was unable to control it, so I just had to let it pass. I don’t know whether people around me caught on to what was happening, no one said anything, no one even looked at me. I just cried silently through the song as I was doing my exercises.
Has that happened to you, too?
Just when you think you have this under control. Just when you think, ok, I’m missing him, this is my life without him, I can do this. It just hits you like running into a brick wall. He’s not here. He never will be again. I can’t share what fun I had. I can’t tell him how sad I am. I can’t tell him how much I miss him. I can’t hold him. I can’t kiss him. We will never make love again. How incredibly sad is that?
So, the waves come and go. They never tell you they’re coming. You never know when they are going to take over. Sometimes you’re home alone, sometimes you’re in public. They are inconvenient. They are unexpected. For some, they are uncomfortable. But they are a part of me now, of what I am until I can control them. Or do I even want to? My tears mean I loved you. My tears mean I miss you. Why would that make anyone uncomfortable? Why would I have to hide my love for you even if you aren’t here anymore?
I was just going to start a DEKA race with my daughter back in July, just 7 months after his passing when another one hit me. He’s not in the audience. He can’t see me facing this challenge. He can’t witness how my daughter and her kids are helping me through this. He can’t see what a fine young man Hugo is. He can’t see how Noah is growing; how beautiful Africa is or how cute our little bundle of energy Kelly is.
You’re missing all of this, so I have to enjoy it for both of us. There are no words to describe how I miss you. How I wish you were here to hold my hand, to call me “angel”, to take the mickey, to give me a cuddle.
Forever and for always and a day, xxxxx!

P.S. The picture is from a heather field in Cornwall, where Barrie was from. The feature photo from a beach in Portugal when we first met face to face. “Forever and For Always” was our song by Shania Twain. We danced it at our wedding and it is engraved inside our wedding rings. “A day” was his addition to the forever and for always, his way of saying I’ll be with you even when I’m not. How did he know?

 

 

 

 

About 

Carmen is a 65-year-old widow who is living in Spain. She was born in Vancouver, B.C., Canada to Spanish parents. Since 2019 she has been living in Antequera in the south of Spain. She was married to Barrie Eggington, her soul mate and love of her life till he passed away on December 23rd, 2023, after a long battle with lung cancer.

Thanks to Hope for Widows, which she found online just a few weeks after his passing, Carmen found a group who not only understood what she was going through when few others did, but also solace in her sisters in grief, a place where she could express her feelings and find the resonance she needed.

Carmen has been an English teacher and teacher trainer for over 30 years in Europe, the Middle East and North America. She still teaches English and is the principal at the government funded language school where she is currently working. She spends her time with her daughter and grandchildren. She goes to the gym every day, loves the beach, particularly Torremolinos where she reminisces about the time she spent there with her late husband.