When my dear Yvonne died over one year ago, I felt so lost without her.
Little did I know that today I’d be shedding bitter tears over Henri, her husband.
I said in my tribute to Yvonne that they were «lovebirds» and lovebirds they truly were.
Henri couldn’t survive her very long. He refused to actually.
Don’t take me wrong. He did not end his life willfully. He just wasted away without her and he died this afternoon.
Whenever we would go and spend some time with him, whenever we were at Les Tertres that is, we’d find him more desperate and lost. Oh, he’d try to be nice and cheerful but she no longer was there and he was becoming like a shadow, month after month.
He was literally fading away.
In April, we went to Les Tertres. I tried to go and visit him as much as I could. He had lost a lot of weight and looked awfully tired and sort of disembodied.
He was experiencing a lot of back pain no doctor could relieve. Apparently everything was fine. Except his back. They started talking about an acute onset of osteoarthritis. They probably never even thought he simply was heartbroken.
His family decided to have him spend a few days in the hospital so that further medical exams could be done.
He left his home on May 2nd. I talked to him on the phone several times. He sounded cheerful, a little bit as if being somewhere else was very helpful.
Then about two weeks ago, he quit answering his phone. I was told that he was very, very tired. Depressed. Not much hope left actually.
I was expecting a phone call from one of his grandchildren, the one I relate to so well.The one who was the apple of their eyes, so sweet and dear JM.
No phone call. I started hoping again. Then I started feeling really worried.
And the phone call came this afternoon. Very tearful.
"Papy died this afternoon."
Henri is dead.
They had been trying to convince him it was time for him to go back home.
His heart gave up at the very minute he was discharged from the hospital.
I imagine that home no longer was home for him. Too much emptiness. Too much silence. Too many memories. Too much heartache. Even if his family and friends tried to be there all the time for him.
I’m crying my heart out because the two of them were so close to me, to us. I loved them so much. And they loved us so much.
It is almost unbearable to think of going home without them being there. While he was there, she was still there, in a way.
I hope that in a few days, I’ll be able to understand that they were meant to be «Yvonne-and-Henri» forever and that he’s at peace now.
It probably will take longer than a few days. Because there will be the funeral in a few days.
But you see, lovebirds are definitely not meant to live apart.
*Good Luck, and Good Night*