About a week ago I received a call from the manager of the Spanish guesthouse Jim, my ex-husband, lived in the last several years to let me know that he’d died from a heart attack.
My first reaction was disbelief. He couldn’t be dead! He was only 78! I felt numb for the first few days.
I had left my marriage of 37 years 9 years ago shortly before I turned 60 but we remained in touch over the last few years, supporting each other in different ways – that would make it 46 years.
After a while I felt able to look back and wonder if I had anything left unsaid. Were there any loose ends? Did I have cause for regret?
For most of our marriage and several years after I left I’d blame him for my loneliness and unhappiness, for having felt unloved and unseen and unheard and just about everything else I could think of.