On death

 Death is simple. One moment you're btreathing and the next moment you don't breathe anymore.

Last week Antonis could not breathe. We were rushed to hospital and the doctors were certain. He would not come out of there alive. For two days he tried to breathe. The oxygen mask would not help him. His left lung was not working at all and the right one was almost destroyed. He was fighting to breathe. It was such a pain watching him...

After two days of fighting he said "This is not life. Give me some painkillers so I can go to sleep". Throughout his illness Antonis refused to sleep. Now he was asking for sleep.

Around twelve at night he said "I can't take this anymore. I am in pain." And I asked him "Where is your pain?" "Everywhere!" he sighed. He turned on his side. I went on the other side of the bed. He was looking up. I said "Look at me my love" But his eyes moved right, left and inside. I looked at his neck. There was no breath. And I thought "Is this it? Is he gone? No dramatic goodbyes? Not a chance to say anything? So quietly?"

I called the nurses and the doctor. He was gone. And then I looked up. And talked to him. I told him in my head that he is safe. I told him he should not be scared. I told him I knew he is still here. I was calm and serene. I called his parents and my parents. The doctor was good to me. She stayed with me until they came to take me. I did cry. And then I stopped. And then I cried again. And then I stopped again.

And then I was home. I lit all the lights. Inside and out. I wanted him to know we are here. His bed was there. Freeda was there and she was full of happiness to see me. I gave her a hug and told her Antonis is not coming home anymore. The kind people who took me from the hospital stayed with me all night. They were people who cared for Antonis, helped us througout the illness. We made coffee. One seat empty for him to sit. One cup for coffee for him to drink. He loved coffee.

I tried to sleep for an hour before dawn. I didn't sleep. I just cried. I lost my breath from crying.

And the morning came. And I put the 4 Seasons by Vivaldi on his big beloved stereo system. He used to listen to this music every morning. And the sun came out and it was red and bright. And I went out and looked at the sun and the music was playing and he was here. He loved the sun and he loved the music. I cried. And the new day begun.

And the people came to the house. And my dad and my sister. My mom was sick. And the friends. And the relatives. And the phonecalls. And the tears. And the laughs. And tears again. And laughs again.

The funeral.

I was wearing white and red. He was a man of colour and laughter. He was not in the coffin. A body was in the coffin. Still I put some things in the coffin.

A cd by Pink Floyd. When he learned about his illness he wrote with big charcoal letters on the wall "Shine on u crazy diamond"

A cd by Tom Waits. His favorite. He has hundreds of cds. I couldn't really choose...

His tobacco pouch and a lighter. He never stopped smoking. He had his last cigarette the day we went to the hospital.

One of his harmonicas. He loved to play his harmonica to the blues.

His childhood pocket chess. He loved chess.

The two necklaces and the ring he was wearing throughout the illness.

I broke down when I was putting this things. They thought I was going to faint but I did not.

In the church I closed my eyes and talked to him. I was telling him we made it. I was telling him we did the best we could. I was telling him he is safe. I was telling him I love him. I told him to give me a sign he is ok. I opened my eyes and doves were flying outside the window. And I smiled brightly and cried. But this time it was happiness. He is ok. He is here.

And then the tomb. I stayed behind. Did not see him going in. When he was going in I sung. "Shine_on_you cra_zy diamond"....

In the funeral there were a lot of hugs. And a lot of tears. It was over. The sufferning was over. The illness was over. He rested.

For three days I was surrounded by people. Frends and relatives. My sister slept with me. She took care of me. I needed her comfort. I did not want to sleep alone. Thank you sister. Only now I realise how much I needed you.

I don't want to go to the cemetery again. He is not there. He is in the mountain when I walk the dog. He is around me all the time.

On the third day we went to the theater with the friends. "The death of Antonello" was the play's title. How ironic! It was about a painting. How ironic!

On the fourth day I left for my parents house. I need them. I need their comforting words. The food. The hugs. The words. I am still here writing this post.

I need time. I will go back in a couple of days. I have to deal with myself and being alone. I have to sleep alone in the empty house. But this is for another post.

The days after the death I have not cried a lot. The illness was so intense I had the time to cry, be angry, tired and then angery again and then sad again... The feelings were coming and going in circles. I mourned for the relationship and I mourned for Antonis. He was never talking about death. He never said he is going to die. We never had the chance to look back. He never told me what he wants me to do with his stuff...

It's ok. He might send me a sign to tell me all this. Or he might not.

I know that everything happened for a reason. I know there were no "mistakes". I know we lived a happy life, we were a fantastic team. I know our life together was full of light and laughs and colour and creativity. I know he was supportive and he loved me. And I loved him too. We dreamt of a family. We dreamt of children. He would be a great dad. He taught me a lot of things. He supported me on my quest to be my true self. He supported my need to be different and free.

He will live in my heart. I will live and thrive on my own. Our roles changed now. He is there, I am here. Different paths, different needs.

Goodbye my love.