There are some dates that stand out for me ~ 23 November will always be Gerry’s birthday; Christmas Eve will always be our wedding day; Good Friday will always be the day I lost him to the Coronavirus. He was and is my hero; a good, kind, caring, and peaceful family man who would help anyone and was always cheerful.

He was born in London in 1940 as the second world war was raging and bombs were dropping during the blitz on the city.  Not the best start in life!  However, his much-loved mum kept him safe and cared for while his dad fought for his country.

Once the war was over and his injured father returned from his service on the Arctic convoys, normal life resumed for Gerry, and two sisters arrived in his family.

His father was totally deaf because of a bomb that fell straight down the funnel into the engine room of his ship and exploded.  But he was lucky to be alive and the family was a very happy and hard-working one.

Gerry enjoyed school and being good at Maths he went on to study what was called technical drawing in those days before computers!  He was so good at it that he was taken on by an aerospace company and moved to Cheltenham.  There he designed parts for Harrier jump jets and fuel controls for a variety of aircraft, doing all the measurements and drawings by hand at a drawing board until computers and CAD programmes revolutionised his work

We met in 1990 and became great friends, supporting each other through some of the worst of times in our lives.  His adored mum passed away in 1991, much too soon.  Then my father was dreadfully ill for 3 years before he died in 1993.  Next my mum had a heart attack in 1994 and need a lot of care.  Gerry was my rock during those awful times and so when his own father died in 1997, we decided that we should get married and face the future together.

This was the best decision I ever made although it came with its own complications.  But we were so happy.  We shared so many simple pleasures ~ charity work, caravanning, fishing, wandering in the Cotswolds, or travelling abroad.  After 30 very happy years as a couple, we were planning a big celebration for Gerry’s 80^th birthday in 2020.  We booked a venue, designed invitations and told everyone to save the date.  But then Covid 19 arrived and Gerry, along with a quarter of a million other unfortunate souls in the UK, died of that dreadful disease.

And nothing has been the same since then or ever will be for me.  The pain of grief at the loss of a partner in life is unbearable.  My heart has never felt such pain and my head is totally messed up.  Some days I just don’t want to get out of bed.  And when I do, I often can’t imagine what I’m supposed to do with myself.

But I’m still here so I get on with things.  I love my Church; I adore my family and friends, I have a precious dog as my companion, and I go through the motions of running my home.  But it’s always so quiet and a bit lonely.

I get overwhelmed with sadness when I watch Gone Fishing on tv, or Formula One, or American Football!  These were his favourites.  The Superbowl night is the worst, as that used to be a highlight of our year with an all-night party to celebrate with his boys!

So forgive me if I occasionally fail to put on my usual smiling happy face.  I’m thinking about Gerry.  And I miss him so much.