Sunday night saw the final episode of Cold Feet broadcast by ITV.
An award winning comedy drama it's not something I've watched avidly, but Sharon has so it's been on whilst I've sat here at my PC. I've managed to follow the plot lines and get to know the characters.
So when one of the main characters was killed in the penultimate episode her husbands grief through the final episode, particularly his complete refusal to acknowledge and deal with it for some time, really struck a chord. It was an extremely sharp reminder of the death of my first wife and the emotions I went through.
Karen and I married on 19 April 1996, 6 months after she was diagnosed with a brain tumour which left her paralysed down her left hand side. She died just 3 weeks later.
I'm not afraid to say that on Sunday I was reduced to tears several times during the programme. I caught me by surprise because it has been many, many months since I've got that upset. After nearly 7 years the grief, which I still struggle to deal with at times, can still cut deeply and painfully. I had thought that it would have eased considerably by now but I think the gradually increasing periods of time between the bouts of grief mean that they hit a little bit harder when they do occur.
I'm extremely lucky to have a wife that completely understands and gives me the space and time that I need to deal with things.
