Good Morning Wales!

Yes, it's Friday evening. The title of this post is not a greeting but the title of the radio show I'll be joining in the morning to discuss the 20th anniversary of the world wide web.

I was only asked earlier today and it's made me think a little about how different this journey could have been without the internet. Keeping friends up to date on how I'm doing, touching the lives of people I don't even know, the prospect of writing beyond the pages of my diaries - these words might otherwise have hidden in pages only I would see with noone any the wiser on this crazy situation.

After a few busy weeks culminating in very dark shadows under my eyes, I am very glad that this is a radio interview. I shall be on air at 7.45am GMT tomorrow (Saturday 6th). You can listen in here.

Celebrations - another crazy day

Celebrating together on our wedding day. June 27th 2009

It's 12:50am. I have work in the morning. I was going to go straight to bed. But I just had to blog quickly before I retire and attempt to sleep.

Today has been another crazy day in this journey I'm travelling. Another day with completely new challenges to face, situations to encounter, things to experience. Yet today has been a crazy day of a different kind.

I've spent the day literally riddled with nerves. Wondering what tonight would hold. Worrying about how I'd be and whether I'd be able to hold myself in a sea of new faces.

I put make-up on this evening for the first time since the memorial gig. I have worn make up three times since Ems died. Once for his funeral. Once for his memorial gig. Both times for Ems, representing him as his wife, not wanting to meet his friends and not be at my best, just like I would've if it had been him introducing me to them.

Tonight was a similar affair and yet not. Please don't think I'm advocating a need to wear makeup to be at your best. Being at your best is most definitely a matter of all things internal. But this evening I had the confidence to wear make up again, to represent Ems, to be there as his girl; this time to a world of people who knew neither of us.

Tonight has only happened because of Ems. Because of the incredibly powerful and overwhelmingly life-changing love story we shared. Tonight has only happened because Ems died. Because the rug was pulled out from under my feet, leaving the bare but strong rock, yet shaking me to the core all the same. Tonight has only happened because I was lead to write about the insanely challenging meeting of these two parts.

Tonight I've won awards for 'Best writing in a blog' AND 'Best Blog' at the Wales Blog Awards!

I am still completely shell shocked and will be for some time.

But tonight, for the first time since Ems died, I have been genuinely pleased. I am genuinely pleased and excited about the light that can come out of the darkest of experiences.

This is by no means the end of my journey. I know that the happiness and excitement that has been experienced tonight is only true because of the deeper sense of purpose that goes along with it.

The happiness will turn to tears of sadness once more; the excitement will be engulfed in desperation. But they will in turn be back. And all the while, my eyes knowingly wandering for glimmers of the bigger picture, the sense of purpose will remain. And so long as we know purpose, we can know fulfilment whether in light or dark, happiness or sadness.

Thank you to those that organised tonight's awards. Thank you to the judges. Thank you (and well done) to my fellow nominees who have written excellent blogs (The Chocolate Takeaway, Journal of Plastik, Two Passports, The Nutpress). Thank you to the lovely people I've met and shared this evening with. Thank you to everyone who has read and followed this blog. Thank you to friends who've supported, encouraged and carried me through. Thank you to Ems for letting me love you and for your incredible love that will always touch my life and fill my heart. Thank you to God for the ability to write, for your hope and inspiration, and the strength to make it through one day at a time.

This is by no means the end. This is all part of the journey, the7journey, and I hope you'll continue to follow.

'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts' Isa 55:8&9

I'm not going to write out a particular memory of Ems tonight but as I've driven home I've remembered clearly the wonderful feeling of sharing achievements with him. I know, I really know, how proud he'd be of me, and how chuffed he'd be with me right now, his Ruthie. I am so sad that he's not here to share it, but I'm so pleased that he's a part of it, and whatever steps lay ahead of me, he always will be.

Something to write about

A few weeks before Ems died he asked me how I felt about work. I told him I'd love to write one day but 'had nothing to write about'. Ems told me that he really believed I could do it.

A few days after his death, I remember being in what is to be the study in our house, and I suddenly had the overwhelming realisation that I now 'had something to write about'. This blog begun a few weeks later.

Like I said in my very first blog entry, From the Start, 'I never wanted to write this blog'. But simultaneously, I do want to write this blog. I have written it. I am writing it. I will write it. And now, 9 months into it, I find out today that I've been shortlisted for the 'best writing on a blog' category in the Wales blog awards.

I use no false modesty in saying that I feel hugely humbled. I am grateful to those who nominated me (one was the journalist who wrote the Huffington post piece, Journeying alone together, about this blog). I am grateful to those who've chosen to include me in the shortlist. I am grateful to you who are reading. I'm not going to pretend I'm not pleased to be shortlisted but I'm still sorry that I have something to write about. Without question, I would rather be part of no shortlist, write no blog, and have my lovely Ems here at my side. This is another crazy step in this bizarre journey that I am walking. Good things coming out of brokenness.

In some ways, it only seems like yesterday that Ems and I took that journey and spoke of future dreams. Those dreams are all but shattered but I know he'd be right behind me on this one. A dream, which without him and his beautiful love in my life, would never have been possible.

See the full Wales Blog Awards shortlist, packed with worthy nominees, here.

The fear

I just wrote an entry and then deleted it. Intentionally. I have promised everyone that ever crossed this blog, that I would be honest. I deleted it because I was forcing what I'd just written. I wrote the last paragraph before I'd finished the middle. I was copying & pasting, contriving. I want to write from the heart.

It has been a long time since I last wrote. I know I promised I wouldn't force things but I genuinely am sorry that it's taken so long. I'm sorry that I may have lost some readers along the way who have given up checking to see if I've posted. I'm sorry because deep down in my gut I've known I've had posts to write and I've failed to do so. I'm sorry because now I'm sitting here and I have so much in my head, I almost don't know where to start. Almost.

I want to start where all this started. Ems. Ems, my beloved husband. Missed beyond any words I could ever hope to learn let alone write at the end of this grey September day. As September has gone on and we've experienced relentless rain and musky blankets of grey, I've thought of Ems. All summer I've missed him and yearned for his company. I still do. But these grey days make me thankful that he isn't here, that he's somewhere better, that he's not about to face his annual decent into the despair of Seasonal Affective Disorder that he battled with so bravely and admirably in winter months. Of course, I would love to have his company as I face grey days of my own, but I'm glad that for him, there are no more grey seasons, no more despair, just light. Once again it is Ems reminding me, as he never failed to when next to me, that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Everything is different now yet this different is becoming my normal. I am so fearful of this 'new normal'. I fear that as I go about this new life with some sort of routine, that people will mistake me as 'normal', as 'ok', and treat me so. Yet simultaneously, I am so aware that this walk is mine to walk and that no one else can walk it with me. Once upon a time (it often feels like that), one did walk beside me. That was beautiful. Yet now, this is me. In an earthly sense, I am alone. I cannot rely on the support of another person. No human being will ever get close beside me like my Ems, my husband, my other half did. Marriage is a beautiful thing and even though I am learning to walk again, I am learning to walk without one leg to support me, without one arm to provide balance, without one eye to give me a new perspective, and without one ear to hear truth and to remind me of it. I am half. I know I've said it before but I really am.

And this half that you see before you 'getting on' with things, is actually completely shell shocked. I don't spend all day crying and then 12 hours sleeping anymore. In fact, in the last couple of months, my life has become increasingly busy, something I was once very used to. In the busyness I am finding I sleep less, I am exhausted in a completely different way. I spend half my day busy and the other half numb. My mind whirs.

I can hide in busyness. I can put on my mask, keep busy, and avoid talking on a deep level to anyone. I can attempt to put my mind on something else, often successfully, and until the task is done not stop to think. There is this 'new normal' emerging around me and it scares me. It scares me to think that people could view me as normal. That in those moments when I have to stop and think, when I crash, that I will be burning alone.

I 'get' why widows would dress in a different colour to show that they are widows. I used to think it such a cruel and shameful cultural thing which widows were forced to do. Yet now I see beyond it. I'd quite like there to be something that would show me as a widow; that would show others, even when I'm busy, even when I look 'ok' (what does that mean exactly?), that there's something missing.

I wear Ems' wedding ring on my right thumb. I know what it means. Widows have different perspectives on removing their wedding rings (and I completely respect that it is each individual's decision) but for me personally, I don't ever want to remove mine. I wear my rings proudly, the symbol of our love and unity. Yet simultaneously, wear Ems ring on my right hand, showing that there is something different about this connection.
When Ems died I didn't ask for his ring back, I didn't think about whether he should be buried with it or not. The police gave it back to me anyway, scratched and bent from the accident, and placed in a clear sealed bag. For a while whenever I looked at the ring I saw the fact it was mis-shaped and scratched. I saw the accident. Yet now when I look at it, I just see Ems' ring. The eternal ring of evidence that showed that he was mine, that we, like the ring, were whole.
I feel a bit like that ring. I'm damaged and scratched and always will be. Yet some seem to look at me without seeing the damage. It petrifies me to think that people could see through the scars when to me they're still open wounds. I'm so scared that as I do more, as this 'new normal' emerges, people will think I am 'fine' when the daily battle is enormous. But just as Ems' ring isn't on the hand of the one we planned it to be, so I must carry on living this life that was far outside my own plans. And just like Ems' ring, I want to be a reminder of something beautiful to others one day. Petrified as I am, I will step out, because the fear of being misunderstood cannot and should not surpass the fear of missing out on one's purpose.
[Memory #20 'the ring' episodes
It's strange in a way but I can remember several instances of being very aware of Ems' ring on his wedding finger. I remember us going out to buy our rings. We went in the January just after getting engaged, hoping to find some bargains in the January sales. Instead, Ems' noticed this 'new design' and the man who'd once said 'I'd like a really plain ring' decided otherwise (I'd always wanted to have an identical ring to his so was happy with this choice too)! The rings Ems had picked out were gorgeous 2 -colour matt gold rings, each with 2 small diamonds in the white gold bit. Ems & I had discussed before 'which way up' we thought the rings should go (i.e. whether the diamonds should be near the base or top of our fingers). It didn't really matter but we'd agreed we'd like to wear them the same way. I can clearly remember sitting on our sofa together and noticing his ring being a bit big. I'd often notice that his ring was the 'wrong way up' because he'd been playing with it, or that the ring had rolled around his finger so you couldn't see the diamonds at all. It didn't matter - it just meant I noticed it. I just remember being aware of the ring on his finger, of gently turning it back around, always remembering the moment I had first placed it on his finger. I remember on honeymoon, holding one another's hands & playing with one another's rings. It was such a novelty, a new & permanent part of the other's person. I also remember him almost losing his on honeymoon. As he swum in the Mediterranean sea he'd felt his ring coming off and stopped it just in time. Rather than pull his ring off and give it to me for safekeeping, he came out of the sea so his finger would once again swell in the heat of the sun and hold his ring in place before returning for another swim! Only death could remove his ring. I'm glad that I can remember seeing his wedding ring, which has become a permanent part of my attire, on his finger where it belonged.]

On another note, I found out today that this blog has been longlisted for 'best writing on a blog' for the Wales blog awards. I'm pretty honoured and grateful to those who nominated me. See the longlist here.