The Red Mist - like anyone actually cares…

Well, the bottom has dropped completely out of my world today, because my beloved Mrs. G. passed away at 3.20pm today.

We knew and understood, of course, that her condition was terminal, and that she wasn’t going to be cured, but nobody was expecting her to succumb quite so soon. Even at lunchtime today, I had no inkling that this was it.

She’d been suffering from a bad back for several weeks - just an unfortunately-timed mishap that prevented her from making the absolute most of her final three post-surgery months. But she had pretty much gotten over that, and we had started to enjoy seeing the people, places and things that would brighten her days again. She made it to our nephew’s wedding, as previously reported, and just last weekend, we enjoyed her brother’s and sister-in-law’s silver wedding celebrations near Daventry.

We had a wonderful pleasure flight around the sights of the north Wales coast on Wednesday, and yesterday made the trip to Welshpool to see her mother. Prophetically good timing, perhaps? She wasn’t her usual self, though, and was acknowledging that the tumour’s symptoms were returning sooner than expected, and that it would probably be wise to bring the course of radiotherapy treatment planned for mid-September forward. We had planned to visit the Terracotta Warriors exhibition in London as part of a long weekend break, immediately prior to the start of the treatment, but realistically, this was beginning to look like a jaunt too far.

Last night was a restless one, and in the early hours, she developed a really bad headache, and we were referred to Ysbyty Gwynedd by the out-of-hours medical service. We got there just before 7 am, and soon afterwards, she was given a sedating dose of morphine, which took her pain away and gave her the rest she needed.

Sadly, she never regained consciousness, and she slipped away gradually, peacefully and with all the dignity that she would have wanted. Both Gddik Jnr. and I were there, holding her hand and telling her just how much we loved her, and how wonderful she was.

I can’t begin to tell you how heartbroken I am. I was prepared for the ultimate outcome, but not yet. We weren’t ready - no warning. My only consolation is that she didn’t suffer unduly, and that’s what she said all along she didn’t want. She was the love of my life, and whatever else the rest of my life holds, I will never be able to simply replace her, and nor would I try. She was a one-off; warm, loving, honest, generous, considerate, extremely popular and feisty… jeez, I can’t list all of her qualities. She was a wonderful wife, mother, daughter and sister, and my absolute best friend. She had a lot of life still to live, had she been given the chance.

I’m going to miss her like hell.