Well, I must start with the end, don’t I, because the end is what brought me here, writing the blog. It was the end of George’s life, the end of our 40-year plus relationship, the end of our dreams and plans and the end of my life as I knew it.
The end came without any warning. No symptoms, no sickness. One minute he was here with me, the next minute he was gone. One minute we were looking forward to spending New Year’s Eve together, the next I was trying to resuscitate him, even though I knew deep down that he had already left me. One minute we were talking and joking, the next he was lying lifeless on the floor.
While everybody was out enjoying themselves on the last day of the year, I was dealing with the ambulance crew, the police, and the undertaker. While everybody was sending messages to wish us a happy new year, I had to inform his and my family in Germany that they would never see or speak to George again. It had really hit home when the funeral director gave me George’s ring. I slipped it on my finger that night, over my own, and have not taken it off since.
After George had been taken away, all I wanted was to be alone. I sent my neighbour, who had come over to be with me, home, and let reality sink in. I don’t think I slept at all that night, but I remember being calm and not crying very much. I thought that would come later.
There is a German expression when somebody dies suddenly, which is “aus dem vollen Leben gerissen” which mean “ripped out of middle of a full life” and that what happened to George. We had booked flights to Poland just a couple of days before, for a June holiday George had won a hotel voucher for, he had been shopping, he went on a walk in the park and sent me photo of a winter sunset on Whatsapp, he had been prepping the food and drink for our New Year’s Eve at home and helped me finish the cooking, he transferred the birthdays from our 2019 calendar to our new one for 2020, he posted New Year’s greetings on Instagram and set the timer to record the fireworks in London, as he knew I might fall asleep before the clock struck midnight.
And then he died.
Good Grief, Sabine! 