25 years ago today i married bh.
it was a glorious fresh blue sky december day, and everything went perfectly.
we could not have wished for a better day.
but it is this day 5 years ago today that continues to haunt me.
basically, i had taken the day off work, and had planned to take bh out to be fitted for an eternity ring.
she had just finished the chemo, and so, our hopes were on the up, and that the worst was over.
hence i thought a day for just the two of us with an added diamond surprise would be the pick-me up she needed.
the kids were sent off to school, and we then drove down to cribbs causeway to go into one of the jewellers there.
the ring was selected, and the fitting was done – which given there was very little of her at this stage was not an easy process.
to celebrate the day in hand, bh then wanted to have a macdonalds.
she wanted to go to somewhere normal, sit amongst the chaos of the christmas excess, and eat something totally naughty for her.
it was all very special.
we headed home as i had to go have a chat to my doctor about my mental state which is fair to say was crumbling.
while i was at the doctors, bh had to go collect the kids from school, but the weather had turned wet and windy, and while getting out of the car, she fell.
i got home to her being bloodied and bruised, in a very weak and wobbly state, and scared.
subsequently she was unable to walk for over two weeks.
and it was this one event that lead to all manner of health chaos.
the outcome of this has been catalogued elsewhere.
i firmly believe that the last 4 months of her life were far far worse due to that fall.
yes,the evil lump would have taken over at some point, but due to not being able to walk and get about caused more blood clots, the ruptured spleen, and then of course the pneumonia.
and so, it is for this reason and this reason alone that my mood plummets in december, and i hate christmas.
truly and utterly hate it.
not because of the crappy music on the radio, not because i am a tight arse re presents, not because i am a scrooge,
but because the whole month is one massive emotional trigger filled with distressing memories, broken dreams, anger, regret, stress related panic attacks, and a lot of guilt.
roll on january, and fuck cancer.