I’m going to be a bit stabby today. You’ve been warned!

So Husband was a risk taker and the kind of flip who always had something going wrong with him. He’d come off his bike, he’d cut his hand at work, he had something else that saw him end up in hospital or laying flat on his back on the couch saying ouch a lot.
He was a tradie. He worked damn hard and played even harder. Yes, both his professional time and his play time were risky but I just never thought…

I’ve lost count of the amount of people that have said to me, “We always knew we’d lose him well before we should” or “You really didn’t think he’d live to be 100, did you?” or “C’mon, this is *husband* we’re talking about.”

Well, don’t I feel the fool.

Nope, I had no idea I’d lose him. I mean I worried of course but never in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d lose him at 35. It just didn’t cross my mind. I saw us old and grey. I had this picture in my head of us retiring in Thailand, living there for 6mths out of the year and here for 6mths in a house on the coast. Le sigh.

So, did everyone know this? Was I the only one delusional enough to think there was a future in ‘us’? That’s fucked. Everyone else just knew… Argh.
I mean, if given the opportunity, even if I knew the outcome, I’d still do it all over again but still… Was I the only one that thought we’d have this long and happy life together?