Sandra died last night, as she was holding her son’s hand, as peacefully as could be expected under the circumstances. I had seen her myself only a few hours before when she still looked as if she could last a couple more days at least. She had said to me she wished it would be all over soon, but I don’t expect she thought it would be over this soon…
I’m glad she’s no longer in pain but I wish things could’ve gone differently.
Justin Hayward’s “Forever Autumn” may be naff, but it sums up my feelings quite well at the moment. She’s going to die and I can’t help her and I’ll be alone when she does. Sandra has fought long and hard for three long years, but she’s tired of fighting and can’t go on. She wants to go on her own terms as soon as possible, now that she still has a choice to die with dignity. It’s tearing me up inside and can’t help but not want this to happen. I want her to stay with me, not leave me alone, but I don’t want her in pain anymore either.
I want to make her happy so much and if that means she has to die when she wants to, than I’m going to support her. But I don’t know if I can hack living without her again.
I’ll just have to cope by fleeing into power fantasies about groups of men in uniform fighting each other for meaningless honours only understandable to insiders; yes, I’ll have to watch more football.