Esther shows we all cope with grief in different ways
DAME Esther Rantzen made us laugh in the That’s Life years and she made us cry when talking about missing her late husband Desmond Wilcox.
Esther has presented a new documentary about grief. I won’t watch it, mainly because it’ll be upsetting, but also because I know what the conclusion of the documentary will be: Everyone grieves in their own way.
Some people like to move home soon after losing a loved one because the memories upset them and they want a new start.
I’m the opposite. I could never leave this house because it’s the family home and I feel my late husband Colin is here.
Robert used to ask his taxi-driver friend Nutty to pick me up (I don’t know how he got the nickname, but worried it might have been because he nutted people so I didn’t ask) and he grew used to me waving at the house and saying, “Bye Colin”, even though he knew Colin had died years beforehand.
I still speak to Colin all the time and even tell him off when I try to do things I can’t manage without him.
“See what you’ve made me do now, Colin? You left me too early.” I pretend the doorknob is his hand when I dance the jive and I don’t like to leave the house too long because I miss him.
For the first two years after I lost Colin, I tried to just get on with life. But then it hit me. I was spending two hours a day sitting on the mat, hugging Colin’s picture, sobbing and asking God to send him through the door just one more time so I could tell him how much I loved him. Then my friend Sandra gently told me it was time to see a doctor.
My GP said grief can be delayed, but then it slams right in to you. Anti-depressants made me feel better after a couple of months and two years later, I finally felt strong enough to come off them.
In the dark days, I thought I’d never feel happy again, never laugh again. But I was wrong.
Next month marks nine years since I lost Colin. I still have down days, because when you lose your husband you lose your best friend. Sometimes I feel like a ship without a sail.
But every day I’m buoyed by the love of my boys, daughter-in-laws, grandkids and great friends. And it’s by talking to them that I realise no matter how we choose to grieve, there’s no right or wrong, and sometimes we need a little help.
Life is never the same after we lose someone we love so fully. We always want them back and never forget them. But I promise you – it does get easier.