on 12th April my 51 year old husband went sailing in the morning. He never came home, a policeman came to my door at 4 pm and gently told me that Paul had died, that lots of people had tried to save him, including the air ambulance personnel.
I then told my son, not as gently, as was shocked. Afterwards Sean told me that he was shocked by this, but the way I handled everything immediately afterwards made up for it.
I drove us to the hospital to see him and believe that the couple of hours we spent with him there with no one else, while waiting for the police was precious time to take in the enormity of what had happened.
He looked peaceful.
I kissed him and told him I loved him .
When the police came we formally identified Paul's body and went home.
One of my oldest friends Deborah was waiting outside our house and two others turned up soon afterwards and held us.
I am crying as I type this .
I need to stop for a while.