It’s been 3 days now, since Fayth passed and I am not sleeping well. I actually started this entry last night, not wanting to go to bed, even though I was so tired. I knew I was not going to sleep proper anyway.

We went shopping yesterday morning. On the way back, I heard that song by The Fray, called “How to save a life.” One of the lines in the song says, “Where did I go wrong?”

I heard this and burst into tears, thinking about Fayth. Friday had been a good day, but hearing that song brought it all back again. There have been many questions since we heard the diagnosis. I wondered whether there had been signs I had missed. Whether there were blood tests or something we could have done to try and catch it sooner. And if we did catch it sooner, would we have been able to do something?

I’ve thought back over the last few months and how she had slowed down. Last year, at work, she would prefer to take her time, going to and from my desk, to where ever we needed to be. On the evenings that we went for a walk, she’d rush up to me, run round the corner and then slow down a bit, happy to continue the walk around our townhouse complex at a more sedate pace. How much of that was attributed to old age, or to getting sick?

She would have turned 12 in June. She and I shared over 9 happy years together, for which I am glad for. I still miss her.

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