I wrote the following just after I confirmed that what I sensed had been reality.
Suddenly there is a huge full stop in my life. Stephen is dead and I cannot cry. It is as though all connection with him was terminated by his passing. Perhaps I am simply too numb. I can no longer reach in and feel sorrow or pain.
Perhaps, it is simply that in the face of so much death and dying, I have moved from resistance to acceptance.
"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds" ( Shakespeare)
He is dead. I cannot hear him, see him, touch him. There will be no more calls from Australia. There will be no more serenades. I will not record the next chapter of Wind in the Willows for him.
Stephen is gone and part of my heart has gone with him.