Just the addition of that word 'feeling' changes the whole expectation of my answer.
After all, I have found that most people stop short and just ask ‘how are you?’
The clocks have gone forward and the evenings are becoming lighter. For most, it signals a time when the period of hibernation has ended and we step out into the light - energised, optimistic and full of plans for the Summer months that finally, after the darkness of Winter seem tangibly within our grasp.
At this point in my life, 9 months without my love, the onset of Spring signals a plunge into my own personal darkness once again. My hibernation from the world continues as the lighter evenings are a stark reminder that this is where it all started to crumble even though at the time we were unaware that the cancer had already moved in and was waiting in silence to obliterate the world that we knew.
I had got used to this new normal (or so I thought) during the past Autumn and Winter months and yet now these beautiful daffodils in my garden and the sunlight that seeps through my blinds in the early mornings are the cruellest sensory assault to my memory that this is the time where it all started.
This time last year how could I ever have imagined that I would become his wife on the 22nd of June and his Widow 12 days later? Our wedding and his funeral in less than a month.
I thought we would have time to say goodbye. The truth is that we just couldn't. Despite what I may have tried to imagine in a scene from a Hollywood film or Shakespeare-esque play, we were too busy concentrating on the Hellos and getting on with the business of living as I saw my darling waste away and removed the mirrors from the house so that he could retain the best memory of himself.
And for all the wishes that I might have had for us to experience a lucid and loving 'Goodbye', the fact remains that we gently gave each other a kiss and I told him to get some rest and I would wake him in the morning with his breakfast.
He slept for the next 72 hours. And then he died.
I don't feel regret that we never said Goodbye. We said I love you a million times and more importantly we showed our love for each other in a million different ways. Our love was full and joyous and unconditional. Goodbye in comparison would have been an empty word but full of sadness. I am left with love. He left knowing he was loved.
My grief and feelings while deeply personal come with a public responsibility to share the truth, in the hope that we may one day live in a time where it is wholly acceptable to talk about death openly and comfortably.
Ultimately there is no happy ending – but maybe it isn’t about the happy ending – maybe it is about the story itself.