Walking on Saturn 5

 Apparently I was married to not only an intellectual giant of his generation, but a saint. A number of people have said how lucky I was to have had him as a husband. They didn't see the stubborn, eccentric, workaholic I knew who dropped his clothes on the floor rather than walk a few steps to put them on a chair, and collected  bits of newspaper "for later" which were never re read.

There were vast piles of newspaper in a number of rooms.

His study looked like a hoarders flat which needed cleaning out by the council. One doesn't know

how much that was the brain tumour fairy. Not being able to organize is a symptom of a tumour in a particular part of the brain.

While it is very pleasant to hear people say lovely things about my husband it rubs salt in the wounds for several reasons.

Firstly It suggests that he chose me because of some dumb luck which came my way and not any qualities I may have had and still have. Several have said how happy he was with me, mostly male friends actually, the ones tough and loving enough to stand with me by his bed near the end when it was awful. They seem to recognize what I gave him.

The " you were so lucky" trope is particularly the case when speaking to female colleagues of his who lets face it might well have carried a bit of a torch for my large, amiable, chap. I believe he spoke often proudly of his wife and daughter at work. Perhaps it was a warning shot over the bows of cruising women and students.

Secondly it reminds me that I am very unlikely to "find anyone else" with such virtues who could love me. I will be expected to retire to the Isle of Wight and wear black for the next 25 to 30 years mourning "Albert".

No one else will ever measure up... apparently.

On the one hand I cannot currently imagine being that comfortable and secure with anyone else.

Husband was capable of non London fidelity .Once he committed to me he was not ranging around looking for someone "better". We got over worrying about having bodies which were no longer youthful and perfect. We did everything we could for the other .

On the other hand the rest of my life coming home to a house with just a  dog and a cat in it feels like someone is opening an airlock and I am being sucked into dark, airless, cold outer space.

At the moment I have a teenager about the place but she is about to fledge and go off to University.

She generally flounces a lot and treats me as a minor nuisance.

There is a catastrophic emptying of the nest all at once.