Random Email #2 - to S.

Written 4 months after G's death
I never expected that losing him would feel like this. Actually I never expected anything, as I hadn’t thought about how I would feel, having focussed on the boys all along. But if I had thought about it I doubt I would have come up with this.
Having lost R, I imagine you have a pretty good idea what I mean, but I am aware that some (including myself) might have assumed that because Glenn and I were divorced for the last 2 years of our relationship, his death would somehow be easier to bear. Apparently not. One of his friends up here put it quite well when she said, ‘Oh, it was always you and Glenn – the divorce was just another phase of the relationship you went through together!’
I just can’t believe I will never see him again. It doesn’t seem possible. I think of all the years when I took it for granted that he was just right there, and what wouldn’t I give now just to touch him one more time. How I wish I had gone back to the hospital the night before he died – but then, I’d seen him at lunchtime, and what would I have done differently? I have turned into one of those clichéd women who allow the same man to break their heart twice. And the second time is worse, because it includes all the pain of the first as well.
I kind of expected I would ‘hear’ from him in some way – but I don’t know what I’m looking for. There have been a few instances when songs have played on the radio or subjects have suddenly come up where I wondered … but it could all be wishful thinking. For instance this morning the CD player in the boys’ room came on by itself and got stuck on Track 29 of one of Glenn’s CDs (When a Man loves a Woman). And this morning while I was reading your email, the radio started playing ‘Tammy’, of all songs in the world – which is funny as the first assignment I did for Glenn included a recording made in a shopping centre, and Tammy was on the sound system in the background, and he made a sarcastic remark along the lines of ‘Only in Townsville would you get ‘Tammy’ playing in the shopping centre!’ to the class. Whereas secretly, I always loved that song but didn’t want to admit it.
Life goes on, and the boys in particular seem to be very good at going forward and not looking back too much – Thank God. I wish I could figure out how to do that. On the face of things I probably look as if things are pretty much normal. But inside sometimes – often – I feel like howling at the moon and yelling, Don’t you all realise what has happened here?! How can life just be going on without him in it?!
Fortunately, so far I have resisted the urge.