http://alicepyne.blogspot.com/
The above link is to the blog of a very inspirational young lady. She is just 15 years old and she has cancer. She has created a bucket list of things that she wants to achieve, which has been trending on Twitter. Reading her story has helped to convince me to decide to become a bone marrow donor however scary it may be!
I hope others are as inspired by her story as I have been. It helps to put your own problems into perspective when there is a young girl out there who can see past her illness and still want to live life to the fullest. My Andrew was just as inspirational. I can't let losing Andrew stop me living my life and I intend to do as much as I possibly can with the opportunities I have in life.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Final Exam Is Over!
And so three years of my life is finally over; I just came back from my last exam ever and I have to admit I'm on a bit of a high! Its a strange feeling, but I'm relieved that I've got through it in one piece.
The exam itself was in Butterworth Hall. For those of you unfamiliar with the University of Warwick exam halls, Butterworth Hall is in the Arts Centre and is in fact used for performances. All of the stalls seat are removed for the exam tables, but there are still seats up in the balcony. Throughout the exam I could imagine Andy sitting up in one of the seats in the balcony watching me throughout my exam. Its unnerving sitting in an exam imaging that someone is watching you, but because it was Andy, I managed to get through it! I did get a little teary towards then end; finishing university is a big emotional thing, especially with everything I've been through. Luckily I don't think anyone noticed my tears!
Its been a bit of a roller coaster but somehow I've managed to reach the end of it and I just have to wait for the results now! I can't thank everyone who has helped me through the past three years, especially the past few months which have been the hardest!
THANK YOU!!!
And thank you Andrew Tomsett for being my boy, even if just for 19 months :D I love you, sleep tight!
The exam itself was in Butterworth Hall. For those of you unfamiliar with the University of Warwick exam halls, Butterworth Hall is in the Arts Centre and is in fact used for performances. All of the stalls seat are removed for the exam tables, but there are still seats up in the balcony. Throughout the exam I could imagine Andy sitting up in one of the seats in the balcony watching me throughout my exam. Its unnerving sitting in an exam imaging that someone is watching you, but because it was Andy, I managed to get through it! I did get a little teary towards then end; finishing university is a big emotional thing, especially with everything I've been through. Luckily I don't think anyone noticed my tears!
Its been a bit of a roller coaster but somehow I've managed to reach the end of it and I just have to wait for the results now! I can't thank everyone who has helped me through the past three years, especially the past few months which have been the hardest!
THANK YOU!!!
And thank you Andrew Tomsett for being my boy, even if just for 19 months :D I love you, sleep tight!
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Last Words
Watching How I Met Your Mother on Thursday night has got me thinking about last words. In the episode, my favourite character, Marshall's father died very suddenly as so they were all at the funeral. They were discussing what their lasts words were too the father. A lot of the family members had these lovely stories, but the last words to Marshall were telling him to rent Crocodile Dundee 3.
My last words to Andy were lovely. Something had made him want to call me shortly before he had to be taken to the hospital, just to tell me that he loved me. I got the chance to tell him I love him, although I didn't know at the time it would be the last time I could do it. Its a memory I will always have and will always have special that no one else can take away from me.
I can't thank him enough for those last words, even if they did haunt me at the beginning. Shows how far I've come that I can look back at them whenever I choose to and be grateful for them.
My last words to Andy were lovely. Something had made him want to call me shortly before he had to be taken to the hospital, just to tell me that he loved me. I got the chance to tell him I love him, although I didn't know at the time it would be the last time I could do it. Its a memory I will always have and will always have special that no one else can take away from me.
I can't thank him enough for those last words, even if they did haunt me at the beginning. Shows how far I've come that I can look back at them whenever I choose to and be grateful for them.
Friday, 3 June 2011
How You Can Help Me
I didn't actually write this, but it is totally relevant and I thought I would share. Not sure of the original source as I found it in a forum.I think its completely true for anyone who is grieving, it really highlights how people should behave and feel around someone if they know they are grieving. I don't want to tell people how to act, but this is really good advice.
HOW YOU CAN HELP ME
Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk about him, and I need to do it over and over.
Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know when my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.
Don't abandon me with the excuse that you don't want to upset me. You can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you to know that."
Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I feel only if you really have time to find out. I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel that you don't see me. Because I can look the part doesn't mean I feel the part, or if I laugh I am happy I remember how to make the sounds, it doesn't mean I feel them.
I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm grieving and that's different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after my loved one's death. Don't think that I will be over it in a year. For I am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was with him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our children and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same.
I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be, and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear. Both are okay.
I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just not acceptable.
When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.
Please don't tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start dating again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. Maybe never will. And besides, what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't.
I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get on with your life." My life is going on, I've been forced to take on many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget and there will always be times that I cry.
I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need to know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief in my own way, and in my own time.
Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you some ideas:
(a) Bring food or a dvd over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can't make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a shopping or a film or lunch or dinner. I may say no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given up then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples, to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable. You can be the loneliest person in a crowded room.
Please don't judge me now - or think that I'm behaving strangely. Remember I'm grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I'm experiencing a pain unlike any I've ever felt before and one that can't be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.
Don't worry if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don't tell me you know how I feel, or that it's time for me to get on with my life. What I need now is time to grieve.
Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank you for praying for me.
And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss - when you need me as I have needed you - I will understand. And then I will come and be with you.
HOW YOU CAN HELP ME
Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk about him, and I need to do it over and over.
Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know when my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.
Don't abandon me with the excuse that you don't want to upset me. You can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you to know that."
Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I feel only if you really have time to find out. I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel that you don't see me. Because I can look the part doesn't mean I feel the part, or if I laugh I am happy I remember how to make the sounds, it doesn't mean I feel them.
I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm grieving and that's different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after my loved one's death. Don't think that I will be over it in a year. For I am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was with him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our children and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same.
I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be, and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear. Both are okay.
I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just not acceptable.
When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.
Please don't tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start dating again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. Maybe never will. And besides, what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't.
I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get on with your life." My life is going on, I've been forced to take on many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget and there will always be times that I cry.
I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need to know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief in my own way, and in my own time.
Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you some ideas:
(a) Bring food or a dvd over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can't make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a shopping or a film or lunch or dinner. I may say no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given up then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples, to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable. You can be the loneliest person in a crowded room.
Please don't judge me now - or think that I'm behaving strangely. Remember I'm grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I'm experiencing a pain unlike any I've ever felt before and one that can't be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.
Don't worry if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don't tell me you know how I feel, or that it's time for me to get on with my life. What I need now is time to grieve.
Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank you for praying for me.
And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss - when you need me as I have needed you - I will understand. And then I will come and be with you.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
The Fundamental Difference
I've been thinking a lot this week, which isn't terribly unusual for a young woman in my situation. I have also been reading a lot, in particular books about women who have been widowed young. However, in all of the books I have read the women have actually been married and are hence actual widows, unlike myself.
There is one main, fundamental difference that I see between myself and these other women - the "widow's bed".
Now as you may know, because I go on about it a lot, but I am at university away from home. When me and Andrew met I had just finished my first year - I had loved the independence of being away from home for the first time and was eager to get back. I was also keen on my new relationship and we both wanted it to work whilst I was away. So for 10 weeks at a time we were in a long distance relationship. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, its not too difficult to be in a long distance relationship in the 21st century - mobile phones, skype and superfast trains were the basis of our love. Not a day went by when I didn't receive some form of communication from my love, whether it be text messages, a phone call, an MSN conversation, skype, or the traditional face-to-face kind.
Andy would come up and visit me as often as possible and we would squash up together in my little single bed in my little house together. We were used to spending nights apart as we didn't often have the chance to sleep together - I was away from home, and whilst I was back home we lived in different towns with our respective parents. We treasured moments together, especially in my house at university because it was just us, no parents getting in the way or siblings or pets - when my bedroom door was closed we could have been anywhere in the world, just the two of us.
The last visit from Andy whilst I was away was a really good one. We spent a whole week together as he had the week off college and I could work around him easily. I also had a job interview in Leeds and he came all the way up with me so I didn't have to be on my own in a strange place. It was also the week of our 18 month anniversary. It was a good week looking back on it.
We had one more night together before he died, which was the weekend before my birthday, he stayed Saturday night so he would be around early on Sunday for my birthday party and to help set up. Little did I know then that he was not just suffering with an infection.
So back to my main point, the "widow's bed". I clearly didn't have that. Yes we had spent good times in my bed together, but it wasn't the same as for women who shared the same bed with their husbands every single night. I went to bed the night Andy died and I didn't miss him beside me, I missed getting a "night night" text message and cyber kisses. I woke up after a horrible night, not wanting to see him lying there beside me, because it was very rare to wake up beside each other in my bed at home. No I woke up expecting a message from him, to turn my phone on to a cheery good morning message, and I could phone him and tell him about the terrible dream I had that he had died and we would laugh at my craziness. Then I remembered it wasn't a dream and the tears started again.
I'm a different kind of widow and I feel like everything I do, I am doing for the first time ever, like no one else is in the same position as I am with how I'm feeling. I'm searching for a new word by which to refer to myself, widow feels like it should be left to the married women, but I need help to think of something good enough.
Thank you to everyone who reads this blog.
There is one main, fundamental difference that I see between myself and these other women - the "widow's bed".
Now as you may know, because I go on about it a lot, but I am at university away from home. When me and Andrew met I had just finished my first year - I had loved the independence of being away from home for the first time and was eager to get back. I was also keen on my new relationship and we both wanted it to work whilst I was away. So for 10 weeks at a time we were in a long distance relationship. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, its not too difficult to be in a long distance relationship in the 21st century - mobile phones, skype and superfast trains were the basis of our love. Not a day went by when I didn't receive some form of communication from my love, whether it be text messages, a phone call, an MSN conversation, skype, or the traditional face-to-face kind.
Andy would come up and visit me as often as possible and we would squash up together in my little single bed in my little house together. We were used to spending nights apart as we didn't often have the chance to sleep together - I was away from home, and whilst I was back home we lived in different towns with our respective parents. We treasured moments together, especially in my house at university because it was just us, no parents getting in the way or siblings or pets - when my bedroom door was closed we could have been anywhere in the world, just the two of us.
The last visit from Andy whilst I was away was a really good one. We spent a whole week together as he had the week off college and I could work around him easily. I also had a job interview in Leeds and he came all the way up with me so I didn't have to be on my own in a strange place. It was also the week of our 18 month anniversary. It was a good week looking back on it.
We had one more night together before he died, which was the weekend before my birthday, he stayed Saturday night so he would be around early on Sunday for my birthday party and to help set up. Little did I know then that he was not just suffering with an infection.
So back to my main point, the "widow's bed". I clearly didn't have that. Yes we had spent good times in my bed together, but it wasn't the same as for women who shared the same bed with their husbands every single night. I went to bed the night Andy died and I didn't miss him beside me, I missed getting a "night night" text message and cyber kisses. I woke up after a horrible night, not wanting to see him lying there beside me, because it was very rare to wake up beside each other in my bed at home. No I woke up expecting a message from him, to turn my phone on to a cheery good morning message, and I could phone him and tell him about the terrible dream I had that he had died and we would laugh at my craziness. Then I remembered it wasn't a dream and the tears started again.
I'm a different kind of widow and I feel like everything I do, I am doing for the first time ever, like no one else is in the same position as I am with how I'm feeling. I'm searching for a new word by which to refer to myself, widow feels like it should be left to the married women, but I need help to think of something good enough.
Thank you to everyone who reads this blog.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Just a quick post
Here's something I've just come across online. Of all the widow self help guide's I've read, this is one of the best. Yes there are a lot of irrelevant points about what to do if you have children, but there are also a lot of things which I found helpful to read.
http://www.merrywidow.me.uk/downloads/guide.pdf
Its by a woman called Kate Boydell who's book "Big Hearted Man" I am currently reading.
Obviously this is the best guide until I bring out my own one, which will of course be better than anything ever written before! The actual website http://www.merrywidow.me.uk/ is also very good and has an online community. I'm not actually a member as its mainly people who were married, but hey it might help some people out!
http://www.merrywidow.me.uk/downloads/guide.pdf
Its by a woman called Kate Boydell who's book "Big Hearted Man" I am currently reading.
Obviously this is the best guide until I bring out my own one, which will of course be better than anything ever written before! The actual website http://www.merrywidow.me.uk/ is also very good and has an online community. I'm not actually a member as its mainly people who were married, but hey it might help some people out!
Sunday, 29 May 2011
The Best Medicine
For anyone who is reading this blog and is unfortunate enough to be in the same or similar situation to myself, then I have a little word of advice. My advice is to spend as much time as possible with your closest friends. I just had a lovely visit from one of my best friends and it has done me the world of good. It was good having someone to talk to, to talk about things that you can't say to your family. It helps that my friend was also friends with Andy too, so we could talk about him easily too. We had a brilliant day, spending lots of money in our heads when we went out shopping, and then finished off the day with a trip to the cinema.
Yes there are some friends who may let you down and not act as you expected them too; but there are a lot of friends who can step up to the mark and be really brilliant in situations like mine. I am lucky to have some really good friends in my life (as well as a fantastic family + extended family) and I am thankful every day for them all. I'm looking forward to being able to go home in just over a week's time, to be back with my family and my friends and to just chill out for a little while and get my head sorted.
We hit the two month mark yesterday and I can honestly say that I am a different person to Louise from two months ago, and even from just one month a go. Its a horrible cliche and I'm completely fed up of hearing the cliches all the time, but it is true - time is a healer, and things do get better however hard it seems to go on. The first three months are tricky and I found out the other day that I will be ending my first three months of grief on either a high or a low - The 28th June is the day I find out my degree grade! I'm hoping for a high, and by the way things are going at the moment its looking like it will end that way. The university know about my situation and so will take everything into consideration, but I think I'm doing fine on my own - although I won't say no to some extra marks if they give them to me! This outlook shows how different I am from one month ago where I was terrified at the fact that I will fail my exams and end up with no degree and no future life in front of me - but now I feel differently! Just two more exams left to go and its over -11 days til home, not that I'm counting!!
Yes there are some friends who may let you down and not act as you expected them too; but there are a lot of friends who can step up to the mark and be really brilliant in situations like mine. I am lucky to have some really good friends in my life (as well as a fantastic family + extended family) and I am thankful every day for them all. I'm looking forward to being able to go home in just over a week's time, to be back with my family and my friends and to just chill out for a little while and get my head sorted.
We hit the two month mark yesterday and I can honestly say that I am a different person to Louise from two months ago, and even from just one month a go. Its a horrible cliche and I'm completely fed up of hearing the cliches all the time, but it is true - time is a healer, and things do get better however hard it seems to go on. The first three months are tricky and I found out the other day that I will be ending my first three months of grief on either a high or a low - The 28th June is the day I find out my degree grade! I'm hoping for a high, and by the way things are going at the moment its looking like it will end that way. The university know about my situation and so will take everything into consideration, but I think I'm doing fine on my own - although I won't say no to some extra marks if they give them to me! This outlook shows how different I am from one month ago where I was terrified at the fact that I will fail my exams and end up with no degree and no future life in front of me - but now I feel differently! Just two more exams left to go and its over -11 days til home, not that I'm counting!!
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