Putting it into persepective.

I have just discovered that my ex's wife has died.

At 35 I have had a few ex's but this is The Ex. The one i spent three years with, lived with and then spent another three years getting over. We didn't part on bad terms but there was a fair amount of resentment (on my part), hurt and prolonged drinking and smoking binges. I had always blamed it on the age difference - he is younger than me - and hated him for being very immature about certain things.

We have had no contact in 6 years but his sister and I do speak from time to time. She got in touch recently to say she was getting married and we had a quick catch up. Now the deed is done I scanned her photos on Facebook to see what The Ex looks like now getting ready with the catty comments about hairline, waistline etc etc (incidentally, very little change at all except waistline and people in glasshouses...!) when i realised she had emailed me bringing me up to date with things.

I had asked her if The Ex had got married as I knew he'd been engaged for a while... i wasn't prepared for the response at all and it hit me like a punch in the gut. He had married only a month before his sister but his wife had died of cancer only 10 days later. Obviously they knew she was seriously ill but clearly had not counted on having only a short time of married life together.

I didn't know the girl, nor have i seen The Ex in 6 years but all of a sudden the tears started and wouldn't stop. I couldn't wish that kind of tragedy on my worst enemy least of all on someone I loved and cared about for a long time. In the space of 6 weeks he had his own wedding, the funeral of his wife and then had to stand and be happy for his little sister's big day.

I have a newfound respect for him and also it has put things into perspective for me. I don't know if I could have the strength to do that knowing what could be around the corner. Boyfriend isn't here right now, but all I want to do it hug him and make sure he's okay and forget about the trivial spats about untidiness and flooding the bathroom.

It's made me realise that the crap I went through in The Breakup and the things and time I lost in that period really don't matter. They're not important. You can earn more money, you can get another flat but you can't bring someone back when they are gone for good.

I'd like to call him to say how sorry I am for his loss but it's not appropriate and I know he has people around him that love him and who will look after him. So, for my contribution, this is where it stops. After today there will be no catty comments when I'm reminiscing with the girls over past loves. As far as I'm concerned we're back on a level playing field. He and I both made mistakes and said things we shouldn't have but he's done the thing I wanted him to do which was to grow up and take some responsibility. I think he's more than done that and I really wish that he hadn't had to have done it this way.

Lest we forget...

It's the 11th November and for almost 3 days now I've been vegging on the sofa feeling sorry for myself as I've got a touch of flu - aching bones, stiff neck, sore throat and zero energy. I will admit that feeling ill does tend to make me a little teary and emotional at the best of times but watching the BBC coverage of the service at the Cenotaph really sets me off: the sight of the three servicemen from the Great War struggling to lay wreaths - the oldest being 112 and the youngest 108 - and the reading of letters sent from husbands and sons to their loved ones sometimes written only hours before their far-too-early deaths.

More than making me upset, it makes me angry. Angry that I've sat here and watched the Jeremy Kyle show (please don't judge me...) with families arguing about poor parenting/bad choice of partners/revenge attacks on each other... i could go on and on. I've watch The Wright Stuff with the panel discussing whether bullied kids should walk away from confrontation or stand up for themselves, possibly putting themselves in harms way. These are things that are in the forefront of our 'culture' (and I use that term very loosely) right now and it makes me angry. Families have always bickered and kids have always got bullied no matter how far back in time you look but surely not to this extent? Why are we so intent in destroying everything nowadays? Destroying family units by saying such hurtful things to each other. Destroying our peers' self-confidence and state of mind just because they are short/fat/skinny/black/disabled/poor/rich etc etc.

We're commemorating the fallen men and women of The Great War, the 2nd World War and all the servicemen who have fought during my lifetime and are still fighting in the middle east every day and yet all around us there are people (young and old) who are blissfully ignorant to why people are even wearing poppies right now. There are young men (and unfortunately women) who are all too eager to resolve a trivial spat by whipping out a knife or using their fists.

Even those of us who do care are all guilty of moaning about what we don't have/can't have - I'm guilty myself. I've moaned about postponing our holiday next year because we need to see how the finances go what with the 'credit crunch' and all... we need to wake up and realise that people in recent times (ie: less than 100 years ago) had their food rationed, had husbands, sons, fathers going off to war and never seeing them again. Women brought up babies who had never seen their fathers on very limited resources. If there was even the opportunity of a holiday it would have probably been with a relative who lived by the see, not a fly-drive down the West-coast of America or 2 weeks in the Maldives!

We might not think so but we really need to wake up and realise how lucky we are. The world would have been a very different place without those people. Who knows what we would all be doing now, what we would be allowed to do now?

I've never been one for preaching or banging the 'love thy neighbour' drum, but I will say , whilst you don't have to like everyone you meet or agree with everyone else's opinion is it really too difficult to be a little more tolerant? To accept people for who they are, live and let live? Let's just worry about the big things and let the little things work themselves out.