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It was great to hear about all the things the family members have been up to. The ability to chat for hours in English was wonderfully therapeutic. I haven't had a chance to discuss my late wife, face to face, in English until now.
Though it did seem rather odd at times. To be showing them the very things I had discussed endlessly on my blog. Getting things off my chest is a valuable step forwards to recovery from such a huge loss. All the things which would go unsaid to a stranger or professional. Or even on the blog. Can be aired and handled in a safe and sympathetic environment. The feedback is essential to bring some sense of normality. Having a team to deal with my many problems is extremely valuable.
My isolation has reinforced certain ideas. Which were not beneficial to recovery. Airing these and hearing their opinions. Has helped to bring a far better sense of balance. It is still too early to make any major decisions. I must take onboard some painful strategies. In order to avoid sinking into depression and apathy. I could already feel these negative changes in my recent behaviour.
The days at the farm museum were a great boost to my moral. Yet I still had to go home and face the awful reality of being completely alone. In an unkempt house. Still full of many of Her belongings. All the memories. Alone for the very first time in my long life.
Still wracked with guilt over the long decades of my less than perfect behaviour. She deserved far better. Yet such thoughts and loyalty to her memory. Tie me to all the things which must eventually be disposed of. How to do so? While maintaining my undying respect. For her kindness and companionship through thick and thin.
Her selfless support, generosity and forgiveness. Beyond anything I myself deserved. I cannot undo the many disappointments I must have caused her. Yet must learn to forgive myself. If I am to move on. I cannot have my cake and eat it. She is gone. It would be pointless to wallow in pity and self pity.
My anger at her unexpected loss. Drove my early efforts to release her things back into the recycling system. Everything which could be easily channelled into charitable donations has been done. Now comes the hard part. Disposing of the inevitable detritus of her storing away anything potentially useful. All those little things she randomly collected over many years. She could turn many things into free pots for her garden seeds. Or could tie and support her plants and flowers. She was the epitome of recycling.
Unfortunately my home's situation does not lend itself to a private flea market. Something, she herself suggested. There is no parking space and vehicular access is long and narrow. Flea markets are incredibly inefficient at getting rid of things.
Online small ads in Denmark are fixed price. There is no bidding to find a market value. Not like there is on eBay. Which all but cripples the system as far as I am concerned. Pitch your prices too high and you have already lost most potential buyers. Who may only want to mark up the goods for a quick profit. Too low and you might as well bin everything. The postage and advertising charges will rob you of any likely gains.
No walk today. So I have moved all my wife's pots to the bottom of the garden. Down behind the chestnut stump. Tipping out the soil onto the bare ground. To give any plants one last chance to show themselves. Then I can cut the long grass. Which has sprouted where they have lain untidily. In front of her "busy" flower bed.
18.30. A day of endless talking. Reminiscing over our familiar childhoods and maturity into adulthood. Our very different viewpoints of the same events and characters. Filling in the missing details. All the myriad, little things we remember as individuals. Though rarely shared as mutual experiences. They each shaped us to become what we are. For good or bad.
The forecast is for 35C on Wednesday. When I am due back at the farm museum. Perhaps I can get a voluntary job indoors. My family visitors will be staying tomorrow. Then moving on to warmer climes. I hope their heat tolerance is far better than mine!
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