One month on...

It's the 14th November which means Oli has been dead for one month. Even typing the words 'Oli has been dead..' seems wrong still. There is a huge part of me that is in complete denial that he's not coming back.. I think that's one of the stages, isn't it...? Of grief, I mean. Denial, Anger ,Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance... apparently. I've just googled it. I mean, it's a load of bollocks, obviously. I'm sure everyone fairs differently on the waves of grief. I certainly cannot believe it's a one size fits all and that, with all that grief encapsulates, can be neatly categorized into five convenient stages. I also don't think I'll get angry.. I mean, never say never, but angry at what, exactly? It's shit that this has happened but it's no ones fault. We couldn't have played our cards any differently and cancer is so indiscriminate that there is no point railing against a disease where luck seems to be the best avoidance. As for the other stages, the only one I can foresee in my future with some certainty is depression... and I'll cock that up some how.

Overall, it's been a good week. There's a naff saying that 'today is the first day of the rest of your life'.. blaa, blaa, blaa. But I have to say, Tuesday really did feel like that. The alarm went off at 6.30am; I showered; packed the car and had a coffee. I said farewell to my parents in a way that seemed like I was leaving the parental home for the very first time and Mary and I set off down that A303... heading west, towards Cornwall...

A few people, including my builder suggested that I should stay in Hampshire a little longer, under the loving care of my friends and family. Yes folks.. you heard that right.. my builder. Oli, in his infinite wisdom, decided that we should start extensive building work as soon as we had the relevant permissions. I do, kind of, see where he was coming from but the timing of it really couldn't be worse. We began in August and the house is, unsurprisingly, a complete building site. He must have known that he was going to die during the build but I'm not sure he really thought about it much. I think he wanted to make sure that I went ahead with it and to be fair, I'm not sure I would have had the courage on my own but now I'm in the thick of it there is certainly no turning back. I am blessed with the best bunch of builders a girl could wish for. They are very understanding of my situation and are working as fast as they can to get me through.. and they are really good at cleaning up after themselves which makes it all easier cope with. There have, obviously, been moments where I wished I just had a warm, clean, put together house to curl up and cry in but I don't so... It's also hard to watch the house change. Oli won't ever get to see the changes that he planned so well and in many instances his handy work is being ripped out and skimmed over, eradicating any trace of his existence. The only thing that is keeping me sane, is the knowledge that this was all his idea and it's what he wanted for me. It still rips my heart out though.

However, it's Friday afternoon and they have all left for the weekend, leaving me, thankfully with running hot water which hasn't been the case for the last few days so that's a good thing. I have a weekend of rowing in front of me so hot showers will be a necessity.

More about the rowing in another post. (...I have news!!!!) For now, let me show you my building site!