I wrote this a few months ago, I had planned on posting it but never did. I think, if I’m being honest, I was just done with funerals and death and dark questions around WHY certain people died. Alan’s funeral was on 30th June this year.
But I realise now that I should still share it, because the more we talk about grief, the more we can bring it out into the light and make it less scary, it might help us all cope a little easier from day to day.
—
My best mate’s husband passed away a couple of weeks ago, his funeral was on Monday. He was 50. Cancer can fuck right off.
The day was marked as a celebration and we were requested to wear colourful outfits so I managed to source a wonderful Hawaiian shirt featuring pages from the first Superman comic book. Very Alan, well the comic book part, he was far too stylish to actually wear something like that but I think he would’ve enjoyed it.
He always had a kind word, always noticed little things like that, would comment on a new t-shirt, or new shoes, with a smile. He had so much love for others.
I saw him a couple of weeks before he died, he was, as he always was, in good spirits, laughing off his ailments and asking after me and Becca and Jack. He was selfless that way, always a good listener, a thoughtful man, but quick to disarm with lightning wit and cheeky sarcasm. He was the type of person you instantly liked, because no matter how you found him he was just fun to be around.
The tributes to him on Monday highlighted all that and more. As someone who at times has struggled to understand what type of person I am, it was telling that Alan’s authenticity is what shone through, he was who he was and was consistent with it throughout his life from childhood to his later life.
I was lucky enough to be his husband Stuart’s best man for their wedding (still one of my fav weddings, what a great day that was!), and have been blessed to know Alan and feel his love and support when I was going through my own dark times over the past year. He is gone far too soon but there are many wonderful fun memories to hold close.
Grief is such an odd thing, losing my Mum and sister in quick succession has put an odd light on Alan’s death. I don’t like that but I can’t really control it.
I know that Stuart, my best friend, will struggle without him. Even though they’ve had time to adjust to this happening it’s still no preparation at all, how do you really prepare for losing your partner, the love of your life? I can barely imagine it.
And while I know that the grief will get easier, I also know it will sit with him for a long time. Past the first anniversaries of things ‘since Alan passed’ and beyond. It will pop up and shake him at the oddest times, a tiny trigger is all it will take.
I know this because I had such grand plans to use Uncle Alan to help educate Jack on comic books and pop culture. I will do my best regardless, but even now when Jack plays with the toys that Stuart and Alan bought for his Christmas last year (a batman car) I can’t help but feel the maudlin effect of death in the room.
But there is so much to remember about Alan that makes me smile, so many things I absolutely and definitely will NOT be repeating here (did I mention his filthy mind?), and memories I will cherish. Gone far too soon, but he will be remembered for a lifetime.
Leave a Reply