Fighting a war of grief
FRIDAY, December 18 – Why not, I thought. If it makes such an impact on friends, why shouldn’t other people who follow me on Twitter? Right now there are over two thousand who do, so I twittered:
This is a shameful – make that a proud – plug: Sign up as an organ donor. My late wife Jennifer has made it possible for four people to live on.
It reached a great many people, which was the object of the exercise. I hope it results in a slew of registrations. Some people have already announced their intentions on Twitter and tomorrow I’m going to issue a subtle reminder. Short-term activist … always better than long-suffering widower.
23.50 – Just back from a small farewell party for my colleague P, who presented his last broadcast tonight. I stayed for an hour or so, spent most of the time with M., a dear colleague. She compared the impact of my loss to that of her Jewish mother, who lost her entire family during the Second World War – all exterminated by the Nazis. Her mother’s life was shaped by the war.
According to her daughter she would have said, ‘This is Tim’s war.’
Tim’s war? That’s not the way it feels or the way I see it. Maybe I should sleep on it. Tim’s war? Tim’s battle? Tim’s amputation? Tim’s betrayal? Tim’s revolt?
But then I knew. Tim’s victory!
Diary of a Widower 