English 
Updated on December 6th, 2022
Kos, Greece 2010
I can’t believe it’s been over 11 months since I lost Terry. I think that’s why I wanted to create this blog. I have been through so much, mainly in the privacy of my own little world, my thoughts, my reflections, our past, my future, that I felt it was important to me to document it. Maybe it’s fear that when it stops being so raw, I’ll forget things. There may come a time when I don’t hear his voice all the time, when I don’t consider every decision through a “what would Terry do?” filter, when I don’t do things & relate them in my head in preparation for making it an entertaining story for Terry.
I kind of hope this never happens. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to lose the certainty I have of knowing the answers to all these things because of who & what we were. I don’t want to get over the confusion of what tense to use whenever I talk about him & us because it feels too weird to talk about Terry in the past. He is so much part of my life over the last 20 years, which have been so much fun, so supported, so much loved, that to say it’s in the past feels like a disservice. I hope Terry is never in my past & I hope never to lose his perspective on life.
I also have the fear that one day it’ll properly hit me that he’s not here anymore. I am terrified of that thought in the same way I’m terrified about what will happen when or if it does hit me. I don’t feel I’ve hit rock bottom yet but some people have said, this may not be how it happens to me. Maybe I just bounce along the bottom, continuing to function but have the moments, days (mainly isolated ones so far) when I do really struggle. When I do just lie on the floor outside the bathroom in a foetal position & cry when I can’t speak to anyone without welling up when I actually can’t get up & get on with it because what would Terry say if he knew?
I know he would allow me my moments to wallow in self-pity but not for long, maybe this has been my driving force so far. But if it does ever hit me, if I ever do finally realise it’s actually happened – brace yourselves, to lose something so powerful & such a part of me won’t be at all pretty!
Xx
I find this so relatable in a strange way. I’ve not lost Don, but he’s 8 years older than me and barring any unexpected illness or accident chances are he’ll go before me. We talk about this, trying somehow to prepare for it since he’s 78 now. We’ve travelled together for years and have been pretty much joined at the hip. I got a glimpse a couple of years ago – I did a solo trip to Japan and China for 7 weeks. I thought I’d be fine but missed Don in a way that caught me by surprise, and that I didn’t think possible. One night I broke down completely – it felt the same as if I’d really lost him, as if I was grieving his death. Like you no doubt were, I was completely undone, so heart broken I didn’t think I could stand so much pain. But I did of course, and the next day carried on, now with a glimpse of a possible future.
This is so beautifully written. I appreciate your raw honesty.
Thank you so much for sharing Alison & for your honesty. It’s such a weird & horrible thought to have to carry with you like that. I get it. Terry had an amazing survival story before we even met so I went into our relationship with my eyes wide open. I knew I would someday find myself here but decided to live enjoying the moment & deal with the consequences when I finally had to. Of course, this has now become my reality but I don’t regret a second of the amazing time Terry & I had together. I really appreciate your thoughts & sending lots of love for all the future travels you will share together. Sue x
Thank you sue for sharing this heartwrenching story. It must be so hard putting yourself out there like this especially with it still being so fresh. Hang in there! Xo Chay.
Thank you, Chay, for taking the time to read & post a comment. It means a lot. Sue x