It is one of the reasons I love this bit of Mumsnet, is the questions it throws at me and makes me think.
Empathy…as he is dead I think I can think about this more clearly, and I do have closure and don't have to still respond to the shit...and that is a huge relief - if that hadn't happened I would still be dealing with divorce/court cases etc.
I feel many things about my husband. I loved him, he was a funny charming man, who I know deep down loved me, who gave me confidence and was the person I shared myself with. I miss that person every day, I miss that I don’t have someone who I can share the minutiae of life with. At one time we used to talk about our dreams every morning, he would bring me coffee and let me lie in as he woke up early and sorted the dogs. I thought he was going to be the person who would hold me up when I needed it, and I would in return hold him up, and we would battle on despite it all.We moved 4 months before the shit hit the fan irrevocably, to the most beautiful place, and even in the last weeks I remember saying to him, it will be all right because we are in the right place now.
He was also in the last years a total bastard. On Saturday night I ended up sleeping on the sofa with the dogs as one of them was poorly.It made me remember the nights when I couldn’t get him to go to bed, and he would force me to snuggle up to him on the sofa which just repulsed me as he was drunk, hadn’t showered for days, and would not give me space. I also remember the nights when he woke me through the night to come to him as he couldn’t sleep, or I had lost it with him and needed to just get out of the room he was in. I don’t think I had an uninterrupted night for months before we separated.
The main emotion I feel about him is sadness – that he had everything, and he lost everything, The thing that makes me feel the most sad was that he never saw the dogs again after his arrest. He was useless with them, but he loved every hair on their bodies (and our clothes). I am cross and angry, but I don’t hate, in the end he had nothing that he felt was worth living for, and I don’t wish that on anyone.
I realise I had 2 people in my life, the one who I loved and loved me, who was dying for a long time before his actual death, and I miss that one and love that one still, and he is the one I bring to the surface to the outside world if I have to talk about him. I can be empathetic to him.
The other was the person who drank, who was cruel and unreasonable, unkind and angry and increasingly violent, and who would never seek or accept help despite being in a medically aligned profession. He is not someone I want to remember or have define my life going forward. I can feel he made his choice, and I could not influence it.
He was physically in my life for 12/13 years, and I have to reconcile that time in my mind going forward, and personally I feel better about sadness and love rather than hatred and anger. (which is not to say I don’t stand in the woods and physically shout at the universe about how f**g c*p it all is)
Sorry for th essay, well done if you have got this far x🌼