Like Organising a Funeral

The morning after I heard the words "I can't do this anymore",  I had coffee with a new friend who had been separated for several years.

While we talked, I cried in the back yard of the cafe. Processing my emotions, wondering how I would be able to trust someone else again with my heart, if I could ever love someone more than I loved P, being angry for not being given a chance to make this relationship work. While I was going on an emotional roller coast, I was also starting to what I jokingly refer to as "project managing our separation". I had no control over the decision to end the relationship, so I would try and control what I could - the logistics.

When I got home I contacted an acquaintance who is a solicitor specialising in family law to make our first appointment, and started looking into the quagmire which is family benefits and child support.

Earlier that year while P prepared for an eulogy he had the honour of delivering, I had wondered how stressful it must be to organise a funeral for a loved one who had suddenly died. At a time when you are experiencing great grief, you need to think about who to invite, selecting songs, and what kind of finger food will be served afterwards.

Being told that your relationships is a 'do not resuscitate' is a little like that. You're reeling, crying, thinking it doesn't feel real, while you have to deal with paperwork and new processes. I just haven't worked out what the funeral march song will be.