Leonie Jarrett lives mostly in Melbourne, Australia with her Husband of more than 3 decades, her 4 adult children and her 2 Golden Retrievers.

Leonie has variously been a lawyer and a business owner.

Now that she is semi-retired, Leonie is loving writing about her life, her travels and her experiences.

Our Cabin

Charlie and I were married for 55 years. We were never blessed with children but we always thought that we were the luckiest pair alive. Out of the billions of people in the World, we had found our soulmate. Not to say that he didn’t irritate the life out of me sometimes and vice versa I’m sure but we fitted together. “Like peas and carrots.”

We had a wonderful life together. Interesting careers, lots of travel, a shared love of following Collingwood in the AFL, movies and musical theatre. And then there was our weekender.

We always loved the High Country in Victoria so, once our house was paid off, we looked for a getaway. Away from the hustle and bustle, away from suburbia, away from traffic. We found it in Jamieson. A little cottage. Space and serenity. It was perfect.

The cabin was pretty basic but it was enough for us. Charlie was handy and he knocked up a little extension so that we had a proper bathroom. We’d go to Jamieson every chance we could.

We had a few, adored Golden Retrievers over the years and they all loved it too. They would run wild there and, when we wanted them to come inside, we would just whistle. Each of our beloved Goldens is buried at Jamieson.

Once Charlie and I retired, we started spending more and more time at our cabin. We were lucky – we had a good fifteen years of golden time in our retirement together. Then our lucky streak ran out. Charlie was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Medical appointments dominated our weeks and our visits to our cabin were fewer and shorter until it was too much for Charlie to make the trip at all. Then, Charlie left me. He didn’t want to leave me but we can’t always choose when we exit.

That was six months ago now. Six months where I’ve sorted all our affairs and prepared everything.

People say time heals grief or at least lessens the pain. That’s a myth. I wake up every morning and then I remember that Charlie is gone. I go to call him several times a day and then I remember. Every time I remember, fresh pain sears through me.

This week, I journeyed to our cabin for the last time. I have had a few precious days remembering. Memories are an odd thing – they’re often a mixed bag of pain and pleasure. Smiles and tears.

Today would have been our 56^th wedding anniversary and I’m choosing my exit. Tonight, I will go to bed and swallow the tablets that I have been diligently stockpiling. I’ve looked into it and I know just what to do, how many to take so that I won’t wake up. And then I will join Charlie and we can celebrate our anniversary together. Like we always do.