And then there was one….

I suppose that death becomes more of a reality the older one gets. In the past year, six of my friends have lost their partners. Each time I heard the sad news, a stab of pain went through me and my heart went out to my friends. One learns to live with grief, but one never forgets and the memory of those early days of bereavement comes flooding back.

I remember the evening, while cooking dinner, hearing Tom groaning in pain. He was collapsed on the sofa, sweating but conscious. It was his head, he said. I dialed NHS24 and the operator spoke directly to Tom. He was told to go to the Community Hospital to see an after-hours GP. She examined him, and finding that his blood pressure was very high, said that he should go to the big teaching hospital for further tests. We went home and while Tom packed a bag, I phoned my son and asked if I could pick him up on my way home from the hospital. I had to go to school the next day and wanted someone to look after the pets. At the hospital, Tom was shown to a side ward and told to wait for admission. I sat with him until about 11 pm, when he said that I should go home because I would have to teach the next day. I said goodbye, not dreaming that I would not see him alive again. The phone rang at 6.35 am the next morning. It was the hospital to say that Tom had died. Fortunately my son was at home and was with me when I took the call. I had to ring my Head of Department to tell her that I would not be coming into school and I rang Tom’s brother to tell him the unexpected sad news. I couldn’t get hold of my daughter. Then my son and I went to the hospital to say our farewell to Tom. He was cold and had a gash on his head which he got when he collapsed, presumably after going to the toilet. We kissed him and went to a small sitting room to hear what the nurse had to say. I got the feeling that they were as shocked as we were. We were told that because of the suddenness of his death, there would have to be a post-mortum examination.

The rest of the day was spent contacting my daughter, the church minister, the funeral directors, the neighbours and close friends, as well as looking for the will. My daughter’s partner drove her home from the outdoor centre where they were both working. She was very upset, but at least she had someone with her to comfort her. One of my friends advised me to “keep busy” and so we all got stuck into the garden and worked with great vigour.

In the shock of the moment, one wonders how you will be able to carry on, but as one gets through one day at a time, one realises that that what seems impossible, is possible. “I can do everything through him who gives me strength” Philippians 4:13.