Tomorrow is my husband’s funeral.
We met in 1988, so long ago.
At the start of this year he was fine, happy even. Then mental health problems came along, out of the blue, then rapidly got out of control. After multiple hospital admissions and the system failing him, a month ago he jumped in front of a train. I hope it was quick.
I’ve been so brave/resilient/stoic/amazing (all quotes) so far, but I’m sitting here wondering how the hell I get through my eulogy tomorrow.
Thank you for listening.