Dbee Robinson Artist - The Fat Struggling Menopausal Artist

  I'm waiting. Waiting for my David to come home. I know it's stupid, I know he has gone. I almost forget for a second, and then remember. And then lie to myself, he will be home soon.  I even know it's a lie, but I don't care. I force myself to believe he is on his way. One day, it will truly hit me. And I will crumble into oblivion. But for now, I will continue to lie. Just so I can get through each day. dbee 💔

The Five Stages of Grief (Kübler-Ross Model) Denial :  A defense mechanism that buffers the immediate shock of loss, causing feelings of numbness or disbelief. Anger :  As denial fades, reality sets in, often bringing frustration, resentment, and a search for someone or something to blame. Bargaining :  An attempt to regain control or reverse the loss through "what if" or "if only" thoughts, often negotiating with a higher power or oneself . Depression :  A deep, overwhelming sense of sadness, loss, and loneliness. It is a normal reaction to intense pain, not necessarily a mental illness. Acceptance :  This stage does not mean the loss is "okay" or forgotten, but rather that it is acknowledged and the individual is beginning to move forward with their life.   I do not think I will ever get to stage 5. dbee :'(

David started learning the guitar, and he used A4 paper to patiently draw lines and add dots for music he wanted to play. It took him absolutely ages and slowed his progression in learning every tune. Later, I found you could purchase notebooks ready to fill in with the music you wanted. I saw this and sent it to him, as he did find the little pictures helpful. Hope you enjoy it as much as he did. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeIxJzdPD0A I will miss him playing his favourite music to me as he practices. dbee

  It's true, my world ended Sunday, February 1st,  2026. As I held my beautiful husband's hand, my David drifted away and left us all behind. I just cannot bear it. After losing my dear sister Lesley, I never believed I would ever feel this type of aching, raw pain in my heart again. But here it is, returned like a samurai with his mighty sword, cutting away the best part of my heart that my David held so gently in his hands.  It's so surreal. Sleep has evaded me for weeks, but I managed to get a couple of hours last night. I awoke this morning hoping I had dreamt it all and he would again be there beside me, holding hands while we slept. When I realised the horrifying reality was true, I wished myself back to sleep; I did not want to wake up. I don't want to ever wake up if he is not beside me. We found out 2 days before, on the 30th of January, that his illness was an aggressive form of colon cancer that had spread to his liver and lymph nodes. The yearly tests the NH...

Love this photo, not just because we are dressed up, and David always looks good in his Tux, but it's his cheeky grin.  I haven’t written here for a long time. Life has been busy, and if I’m honest, I haven’t had anything much to say. I still don’t have many words — but my heart wants to scream. The beginning of 2026 has been unbearably hard. My David is unwell and, even as I write this, he is fading before my eyes. There is nothing I can do to stop it. We are waiting for a scan to confirm a diagnosis, caught in a queue like so many others, and it is breaking my heart to watch my husband decline while we wait for an appointment that may confirm what we already fear. But without it, we cannot move forward. I try to stay positive, to be strong, but inside I am quietly crumbling as I watch the man I love wither away. Still, we hold on to hope — that this is something treatable, that there is a way forward, and that one day we might have our life back again. Love and Light all...