Tough Times

The past few months have been rough. Although expected, the shock, and manner, of Stephen's death sent me into a downward spiral. I tried to assuage my grief by working overtime in the garden - lugging large bags of compost - to a point of exhaustion which I thought might help me sleep - but I collapsed and ended up in an ambulance, sirens blaring, to spend a couple of days in the Coronary Care Unit at the local hospital.

I find moments come out of the blue when I relive some of the horrors of the past year, remembering Stephen's pain and desperate physical condition during the last few weeks of his life. An appalling way to die.

I found solace in mindless knitting - something I hadn't done for 30 years. Am about to finish 9th jumper since Stephen was admitted to the Hospice. Same pattern - different wools. Will be able to knit my tenth - blindfolded.

Have discouraged visitors and not been out - apart from the local shop.

However, 3 weeks ago discovered my lovely engagement ring, Stephen's heavy gold signet ring and cash was missing - as was the kitchen door key.

Had been burgled. Entry had been forced by means of a tiny conservatory window and inner mesh frame (to keep out flies) had been broken. Police were called and forensics took fingerprints.

Spent miserable days and scary nights - listening for sounds of intruders - imagination working overtime.

The local police were marvellous. Supportive and reassuring. After 9 days was informed the burglar had been caught (forensics - he had previous form) and confessed to the crime. My engagement ring was found - sold by an accomplice to a small jeweller's shop in the city (no questions asked for £450 cash.) Cost £2000 many years ago.

Was a relief to have my ring returned, but the experience, on top of everything else, has depressed me to say the least and reinforced my loss of Stephen.

Am so tired, having been to the Hospice this evening for a memorial service for families to remember patients who died there between March and May this year, and light a candle in their memory.

Was alone. Couldn't handle it - burst into tears and walked out before the service proper had begun. All the trauma and upset over the weeks - and year - have taken their toll.

I am lonely and devastated.