My Life with Gary
Gary and I met at the Three Horseshoes, at lunchtime on the Wednesday before the August Bank Holiday of 1983, in Hampstead, Northwest London… I know it sounds very clichéd but for my part, I knew the minute I saw him, that he was “the one” … it later transpired that Gary had felt the same way about me… as later that evening we once again met up. We'd both gone out that evening looking for each other and once again found each other at The Three Horseshoes. From that night we had been pretty much joined at the hip. Within 6-weeks we were living together, and were married 10-months later. We did everything together.
During our married life we had only spent 40-days apart, we were completely inseparable, until the day he died. We raised our family together, educated our children together, we played and studied together and took care of each other. We had our struggles as all couples and young families do but as long as we were together, the problems and challenges of life were faced and overcome together. Together we had a taste of heaven on earth.
We shared every aspects of our lives and were a totally equal partnership.
We both had a deep desire to understand the meaning and purpose of life and through our quest for the knowledge of spiritual matters we build our faith and our way of living in a modern world, while adhering to ancient principles. Both of us were somewhat obcessed with Biblical Prophesy, and felt that we were living in what the ancient prophets called "The End Days." We were dedication and devoted to eachother and our children, which we raisede to be independent and resilient. Our dedication to each other and our faith in God was our the foundation of our lives.
We spent the first tweny years of our married life in Camden and were happy. We weren't rich, but we had a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes on our backs and could afford to go out a few times a month. I had a small consulting room at the Stables Market in Camden and together we were minor celebrites in the London alternative scene. However, in the early 2000's Gary became ill, initially the doctors diagnosed him with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis; (M.E.) a dreadful and debilitating disease for which there is no cure. All we could do was experiment with suppliments, diet and exercise, tweaking our lifestyle that living in hope that Gary would get better. Unfortunately, he didn't, so after four years of caring for Gary as best as I could I closed my consulting room in Camden and worked from home, so that I could take better care for him, and our children who were now growing into their teens.
In 2004, and after numerous visit back and forth to the GP, we decided that a move from central London, to a cleaner and less stressful environment might help... On a level the move did help as I got to have an additional nine-years and one month with him. He never fully recovered from the Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, but he was able to do more than he had over the preceeding four years. In August 2012, we moved into what we considered our dream home; with a garden and a stones throw from the beach...
After the house and the garden which was over grown and neglected had been cleared Gary seemed to be getting better and stronger. We had started to make plans for 2013; which included podcasting together and had intended to write another book together. We were really excited for 2013, all the years of hardship and sacrifice seemed to be behind us. The children were grown up and doing their own thing and this was going to be the beginning of our time... But God had other plans, on Christmas Eve 2012, I came downstairs to find Gary collapsed on the floor... paramedics were called, they eventually arrived and did their thing so that Gary could be transported to hospital where a speciality team was waiting for him, yet despite all their best efforts Gary died in my arms twenty-eight and a half days later.
Gary was my biggest supporter. He was always there for me. He supported my business endeavours and he believed in me. He really was a one-in-a-million human being, a diamind in the rough; and old-school gentleman. He could have been anything he wanted to be, but instead he chose to invested all of himself into me and out children, hence my profound devastation since Gary's passing. Every area of my life has been shattered. To be honest I didn't think I could live a day without him in my life yet here I am 547 days later, and while I feel half dead (either completely empty and numb or full of rage) and functioning in some weird auto-pilot way, every morning that I wake up to find that I am still alive, I am amazed.
I have to keep reminding myself , I am not the first widow and unfortunately I know will not be the last. From talking to other who have suffered the loss of a partner or someone equally close, what I have come to understand is that we all manefest grief differently. The ways that we who are left behind to pick-up the pieces of our broken lives also differs for each of us … I’m still living through the grief, the shock and the trauma, as its only been 18-months since Gary left this world; and I miss him more than I am able to express.
Those twenty-eight and a half days were simultaneously a blessing and comfort; as well as a curse. My Gary’s ashes were returned to me on the 14th February 2013 and I couldn’t think of a better day for the love of my life to be returned to me, though not in the way I would have wanted… A little after this a specialist piece of jewellery arrived, sent to me by my sister; which enables me to have a bit of Gary with me wherever I go. While this is a comfort, I’d put all that I am on the line to have my Gary back, for one more day.
It took till March 2013 to be able to face the world in very limited portions without my Gary… Today 18-months later to the day, I finally felt comfortable and complelled write and share about my Gary. I continue to have good days where I am able to function at various levels, and then I have days when I am emotionally challenged and am returned to the 20th January 2013, with memories of my Gary as he died in my arms …
In amongst the emptiness and rage, and as part of my healing, I am making the willful choice to practice gratitude. I am grateful for the years we had together, and I am gratefuI for his fight to stay in this world for me and give me the time to process that he was dying and was going to have to leave me. I am grateful that the months of crying has subsided. I'm also grateful that I can't feel my hair and nails growing. (Who knew that when bereaved there ar so many different ways in which the pain of loss can be felt?) I'm very grateful that my cognitive awareness has returned and am grateful for the skill and awareness of the bus drivers that come down my road. In the initial months after Gary's passing I was incapable of crossing the road. My eyes would see the traffic, but my brain wasn't registering the perils, such was the absolute depth of my despair.
I am a fighter, and in spite of the pain and the anguish for which there are ‘no words’ I’ll keep fighting to live, and to keep my promise to Gary to strive to live my best life, as that is what he would have expected from me.