The Day You Went Away...

I remember sitting in my hot car, parked in the corner of the beach car park, and all I could hear was the beautiful, soulful voice of Wendy Matthews, singing her song, 'The Day You Went Away', as it played from my car radio. It was a steamy, mid morning on Valentines Day in the year 2000. The sky was cloudless and couldn't have been any bluer. It was the most amazing summer's day. The world stopped for what seemed like forever, as I sat in shock, attempting to digest the news. I had only returned to my car after realising I had forgotten my mobile phone, therefore had missed the devastating phone call, which would shatter my world.    

 

It was October, 1998, when Glen and I were first introduced by a mutual friend. Although he made quite an impression, I had promised myself I would take things extremely slowly the next time I met someone, whom I could possibly see myself in a relationship with. I had a history of heartache, especially after living overseas. Immigration issues forced me to make the difficult choice between my then relationship in Europe and my home, Australia. I chose to come home. So I decided in future, I would give myself plenty of time to nurture and grow a friendship prior to becoming involved. I wanted to be sure. As sure as one can be anyway.
 

Glen and I hit if off immediately and we caught up often, either for dinner, or coffees, or we particularly enjoyed spending time at the beach, relaxed and engrossed in deep conversation. I could never wait to see him again and my heart would happily race at the thought. Glen knew my stance and never once pressured me to move forward with our solid, meaningful friendship, instead waited for the first move to be initiated by my timing. However the loving and trusting energy, which embraced us, made it clear to each other how we both felt. We just hadn't voiced it, waiting for the right time. My right time.
 

It was the evening before Valentine's Day and a girlfriend from Germany was presently residing with me for a couple of months. I had taken a week's leave from work to drive her down to explore South Gippsland for some sight-seeing the following day. So after making sure she wouldn't mind, I rang Glen suggesting the two of us meet up for a pre-Valentine's Day dinner, as I wouldn't be able to catch up with him for a week or so. I was secretly bursting at the seams to see him!
 

We enjoyed a beautiful meal with good conversation and much laughter and as I drove home that night, I decided I needed to let go of my fear of being hurt and take the plunge. I was so in love with Glen and I swore to myself next time I see him, I would tell him so. Secretly I was sure I was going to marry this wonderful man.
 

The following day my girlfriend and I headed off bright and early. It was such a beautiful day, we decided to spend the morning basking in the sun on a picturesque, isolated beach we had found in our travels. We settled, laying our near naked bodies down under the golden rays, lapping up each holiday moment. I was so happy. I had my gorgeous best friend from overseas with me, last night's loving memory continued to play around in my head, and I was excited about seeing Glen again and baring my soul. How could I not be blissfully happy?
 

It then suddenly dawned on me, I had left my mobile phone in the car! I wasn't comfortable with the thought of it cooking in the car heat, so I decided to walk back to fetch it. I opened the car door, grabbed the phone from the console and noticed I had missed a call. I sat down in the driver's seat, left the car door open due to the stifling heat, placed the key in the ignition, turned on the radio and proceeded to ring my message bank. I listened to the message.... then I listened again... and then again, trying to make sense of the words I was hearing. An acquaintance had rung me, who I didn't even know had my number, to express her condolences and deepest sympathy to hear Glen had passed away. Glen had passed away?! What did she mean? I only saw him last night! And why was she ringing me?

It was true. Glen had been found deceased at home early that morning. He was thirty-seven years old.

It was the most glorious summer's day. The sky was cloudless and couldn't have been any bluer. While Wendy Matthews continued to sing her beautiful song, nothing made sense.....the world made no sense.....

 

(A tribute to Glen, who will always own a piece of my heart)

 

 

 

Glen and I made a pact, that whoever leaves this earth first (God forbid), will return to the other to prove there is, after all, life after death – if this is so.

In my next blog I will explain how the signs appeared thick and fast....