30 March 2019 (7 months later, his body still lying in the mortuary refrigerator)

My blog chronicles the painful and arduous journey in the search for the truth in Gerhard's death. While my journey thus far has left me with a basket of emotions, it is a deep sense of sadness that potently overpowers all of them.

A deep sadness of what Gerhard could have been, the life we could have had, but never will.

But it is also with sadness that I reflect on the institutions of our Great British society that have so badly failed Gerhard in ensuring that the truth behind his death is secure and safe.

My consolation in all of this is my memory of Gerhard. My sweet, bold and defiant man. His strength of character is my inspiration and drive. In my times of weakness, I remember his strength, and I soldier on.

When I close my eyes at night, I remember the touch of his mouth, the muscle of his chest and the fast rhythm of his breath as we lay together.

When I look at our two naughty and incredibly cute dachshunds I remember the joy we spent together with them; his laugh as they elicited delight from their enduring acts; our walks along the canals and in the parks of London, our journeys into the concrete beauty of the city; they are my fond memories which ensures he never dies.

His spirit endures beside me, always.