Easter, birthday & ash clouds

I should really stop beginning my blog entries with explanations or apologies about the gap in time since the last one.The last few weeks have given me plenty of opportunity to blog. I haven't though.

There was Easter weekend. The most significant weekend in the Christian calendar. The celebrations of which provide me with amazing hope in things unseen. That aside, Easter weekend was always an immense weekend with Ems too. 4 whole days off in a row. 1 for family. 1 for friends. 1 for church. 1 for us. I have some amazing memories from Easter weekends. So much quality time provided us with many phenomenal moments.

One of my favourite days of all time was spent last Easter Monday (2009). Ems and I had no set plans and just spent the day going from place to place as the wind took us. It turned into one of the best days. Kite flying, walking, exploring the neighbourhood near our house to be (we'd had our offer accepted), food, coffees, relaxing, talking, really talking. It was amazing.

4 days off. Always time for 'us'. I dreaded this Easter weekend and its length. I tried to find things to do on each of the days so that I could attempt to pretend he wasn't missing for a moment. As expected, the weekend was incredibly tough because there is just no getting away from the fact he is missing. Doing the same things, seeing the same people, but he's not there.

And the celebrations? They were even more important to me than ever, I was even more grateful for the gift of eternal life, heaven is even more real now that Ems is there. But the celebrations weren't accompanied by a personal joy right now. Right now is pain and sadness. I guess even when there isn't joy, at least there's hope. I'm beginning to realise how powerful hope really is. 'Hope deferred makes the heart sick'.

Then there was my birthday. This was another big 'first' to get over. Again, no celebrations. Family and friends showered me in their love and kindness but the one whose wishes I most wanted showered on me wasn't there. I'd asked that there be no fuss. I thanked God it fell on a Sunday so I could fill it with routine. I was dreading it and it's over with. God helped me through it somehow.

Perhaps the craziest thing about it was that I'm now 28. I always had a feeling that 27 was going to be a significant, life-changing year. I didn't know what. I didn't know how. I just knew it would be massive. When I met and then got engaged to Ems, I presumed the significance was positive - our wedding, and it was - massively significant and life-changing. Little did I know that his death would follow within that year. That too was painfully significant and enormously life-changing. 27 was a massive year - beyond anything I could have imagined. My best and my worst. I don't want to live a mediocre nothing life by any means but I certainly hope I don't get another year like that. 28 it is. It's not a new start, it's a continuation. I'm still here. He's still gone. Another year away from my entrance to this world. Another year closer to my exit from it.

Easter. Birthday. What else?

I'm in talks with occupational health to get a 'back to work' plan sorted. It's terrifying but essential. I'm hoping to be back on phased return in a few weeks. I am petrified though. Returning to something that hasn't changed when I have changed so much. Life as I knew it but not as I know it.

The general election looms. There's a lot of noise. I'm undecided.

Facebook on the other hand is remarkably silent about something I'm not so undecided about. I'm trying to get in contact with Facebook who have taken it upon themselves to delete Ems name from my page without any contact with me. Facebook aren't very good at relationships it seems. Not only do they apparently think they have the power to decide when someone is no longer your husband all of a sudden but they also appear to have the inability to respond to any (3 so far) emails that you send them. I hope this gets noticed. It's inhuman.

And then there's this volcano. I have to say that in a world which is so busy with its own business, in a country where politicians are fighting to be the next UK superpower, I'm glad it has taken something far more powerful to make us stop for a moment. Well done Eyjafjallajokull (the Icelandic volcano in case you haven't noticed by now) and your ash clouds. I am sorry for those who have been in critical situations because the airways were closed (those waiting to travel for life-saving operations, etc). But outside of those people, I'm glad that we've all had a chance to realise how small we really are, how it's really not just about us.

Because how often do we really stop and think about it?

[Memory #15 the "romantic stroll" episode

Talking about Easter weekends together took me back to the first one Ems and I shared. It was as full as any other and on the Sunday we both went back to his parents farm for lunch after church. Once lunch was over Ems suggested we go for a walk, as we often did, up on the fields around the farm. As we got to the highest point, the sun was shining brightly from behind the cloud, the Jack Russell terriers were running ahead, and it was what seemed a lovely moment, a romantic stroll between 2 people in love. Then, all of a sudden, Ems knocked my legs from behind and I was flat on my back in the mud before I even knew what was happening - in case you're wondering it WAS intentional! I can clearly remember him standing over me, double bent with laughter at the trick he'd just pulled. In total disbelief, I too was soon laughing hysterically with him.

I remember Ems telling me early on "I'm not a romantic". Perhaps he wasn't in terms of the idyllic scene we see in the films, but in terms of coming out with the unexpected and giving us opportunities to truly laugh together, the romance overflowed...even if it did result in hair caked in mud and the need to change! I think I'd prefer Ems version of romance any day.]

More than a day

Here we are. I'm writing. I've been idly browsing facebook and procrastinating wondering whether to blog or not to blog. I'm nervous but I'm here now.

It's been quiet on the writing front, well on here at least. I spend much time writing down notes, thoughts, prayers, memories and the like in my trusty little notebook (I've gone through 4 notebooks since Ems died 11 weeks ago). I like to get things out on paper. I've struggled to write on here this week though, sorry readers.

It's been a very tough week but today has been ok. You'll recall me repeating that I'm going to remain honest to myself (and you) and that I will. I won't pretend this week has been easy but neither will I pretend that today has been the worst day. It hasn't.

Today was Valentines Day. Today was the day that thousands celebrate their mutual love, one with the other. I celebrated my love alone. The love is still very much alive, the memories are vivid, the texts, cards, photos still so very real. But he is not here to share it with.

I'm not going to pretend that I spent the day thinking about the fact it was Valentines day. To be honest, I tried not to. It was excrutiating on Friday, trying to find a birthday card and pretending I didn't notice the countless 'To my wife' valentines cards I had to clamber past to get to the birthday section (only to realise there were no decent cards because they'd all been put away to make room for the Valentines ones).

I'll never receive a 'To my wife' Valentines card. Just like I'll never receive a 'To my wife' Christmas, birthday, anniversary card. Our marriage was so real, so full, so loving, it felt like we'd been married forever and it's crazy to think we didn't mark these dates as husband and wife. It also doesn't take the word 'wife' on a card to prove its worth*.

I got out the 'to my fiancee' card Ems sent me last Christmas at Christmas. I haven't got out the valentines cards he'd sent me today though because I've memorised the words he wrote in them already. I have read those words (Welsh and English) countless times in the last few weeks; all the cards and notes and texts he'd sent me. They bring tears but they also bring smiles, the love behind them as real as the second he sent them.

I've had this overwhelming sense of how perfect our love was today. I am so incredibly grateful for that love; for Ems. The funny thing is, our perfect love is immortalised now. Ems can't screw up on Valentines day; he can't buy me the wrong present or not write enough in the card. Sad as I will always be to not have him here with me, I will always remember how lovely he was. Our love will always be perfect, Valentines Day or any day. Nothing can ever taint it.

Even though I've mentioned it in this post, Valentines Day is more insignificant than ever. I was never overly enthusiastic about it before. Ems and I naturally enjoyed celebrating the first one we shared [see memory #9]. Last year's consisted of wedding suit fittings, McDonalds, rugby and an Indian takeaway with friends. I was a bit dissapointed at the time but a few weeks later Ems surprised me with a massive bunch of flowers and took me out for a delicious expensive meal. The surprise and effort meant far more on a day when Ems was unprovoked than it would have on a day when it was expected. We agreed that Valentines was just an extra excuse to proclaim our love rather than a day where we had to prove it.

I will remember the love we shared every day of my life. Valentines Day will be no exception but neither will it be especially significant. This is better than Valentines Days before Ems came along because I have a very real love to remember. In days gone by I may have sat and wondered if my crush would send me a card but I'll never have to wonder again. The Royal Mail just about manage with earthly deliveries, there's no way anything can be sent my way from Heaven.

I know he is surrounded by love up in Heaven though and so am I. Warm memories of the sweetest love I could ever have known, and the life-giving love of a Saviour who died for me so that one day, we will be reunited.

Real love can't be captured in a day.

Real love is expressed with every breath you take, every day.

I can't write it in a card for Ems this year but I will love him forever.

[*Memory #10 The 'card' episode

Ems loved doing the unexpected, he wasn't really one to take the obvious option.

When I look back at the various cards Ems sent me, it is only last Christmas' 'To my fiancee' card that ever had such a label (that was only because it was pointed out to us both that it would be the only Christmas when we would have such a title).

I remember opening the first birthday card Ems ever gave me, expecting some kind of girlfriend statement or at least a few love hearts on the front. As I pulled it from the envelope, I was surprised to just see a few chickens on the front. They weren't animated or particularly attractive, it was just an old fashioned sketch of some chickens. It was unconventional and the first words he'd written inside were 'You do like chickens don't you?!'.

Completely random, just like Ems was. I didn't particularly like or not like chickens, we'd never made any reference to them. He'd just seen it when looking for my birthday card and decided it was to be the one. He told me he didn't like the obvious ones and would rather write his own words than rely on those printed in a card...so would I. Ems' words were real, loving and beautiful.

Thinking about it, I may never have received a 'to my wife' card even if he was here. That might have been far too obvious for my sweet, unpredictable boy!]