I got out of hospital eight days after my wife died. We went in together. She had comorbidities. I did not, they said.
I did not realize then that those eight days were the best days of the rest of my life.
It was really tough managing on my own. I tried to get a help. My kids said they are unable to come from abroad. They could not come even for her. She was the good parent, me the bad one. We had decided on that long back.
There were lots of messages to attend to. I got to it finally. Wish-me-wells from strangers. We-are-there from relatives. Get-it-sorted too.
It was by chance I came across a thread within a group.
They hoped I would not last long. For my good. She had comorbidities, they said. I did not, they complained.
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