Decade

Today marks the 10th anniversary of my former husband's death.

It seems like a lifetime ago, something that happened to somebody else, not me. And yet sometimes it seems like yesterday. I catch myself in a memory, a moment of recognition that this whole "other" life was real. It mattered. He mattered.

He was a beautiful, flawed, individual. Like the rest of us. He battled demons that I still to this day don't fully understand. He didn't survive.

In the decade that has passed I have observed real progress in how we as a society treat and recognise mental illness as a real thing, not just something to be minimised, hidden from polite conversation, seldom mentioned, unless spoken about in hush-hush and guilty tones.

I often wonder, had he survived, whether he would have gone on to thrive and find his niche that he so clearly craved.

I don't suffer the crippling guilt anymore, but I do catch myself feeling sad every so often. He was a good soul. He didn't deserve the pain.

RIP Kevin. I know you are still very missed, to this day.

xxx