There’s so few days when you don’t cross my mind… A memory… Laughter… Tears… 

A part of me is still in denial. 
Today’s memory is of that hospital room. One of us on each side of you, grasping your hand, waiting for the verdict. I can still feel the punch to the air when the doctor spoke. I can’t find the words to describe that. It was a punch. We each felt the hit low in our stomachs. You could hear the air forced from each of us. 

I reach for the phone, to call and tell you my news, a funny story, to hear of your family, to ask your advice, that recipe I’ve forgotten… Scrolling… I remember… I still can’t delete your name…


I miss you…

I woke from a dream of you this morning… tears on my face… such a sense of your presence.

We had been on your lounge. So many days, weeks, months and years spent in the comforting embrace of those chairs! I miss them. The stories. The laughs. The tears. There is no apt description for those salmon depths. Watching everyone succumb. First sitting. Slowly, the incline starts. The feet come up. The head soon touches the arm rest. And soon… ever so sweetly… slumber takes over.

I miss you. There are no other words to explain it. Just that. I miss you.

Missing them

More dreams…. More tears….

I was asked the other day if I missed the kids when they are with their dad. It’s become easier as the year has gone along – probably because it doesn’t happen often.

So do I miss them? Absolutely. They don’t talk to me when they are with their father. They are busy with the girls – their new step sisters. And seeing their big brother – he’s at boarding school, but is there when they visit. They love the noise and the mayhem.

But I don’t miss them as intensely as I did a year ago. Time? Or maybe just that I have them all the time, so the odd weekends without are a little more pleasant.

I’ll have 6 sleeps from Boxing Day to New Year’s Day. Six sleeps with no kids. They are all going – this never happens. It’s an enormous family Christmas with cousins and grandparents, so I’m insisting they all go.

I’m not sure about that one. It’s a family time of year, so I don’t know how I will go without them. I’ll talk to them.., but not seeing them?

In my dreams last night, I was missing them… But they’d decided to not come back. Always the greatest fear. So much fun with the extended family. The tumble of extra children. They decided to stay….

One has gone, breaking my heart… I truly don’t think I can handle a second or third going. And no, Universe, that is not a challenge….

I’m lonely when I think of you…

… I’ve forgotten the next line…

This town makes me feel lonely. Waking up alone in the motel room. Rain pounding on the windows. A steady stream of voices and suitcases outside the door.

A dozen people I could call for breakfast, and instead, I’m lying on the bed feeling sorry for myself.

Years of habit? Too many memories?

If I was at home right now, I’d be lying in bed because I’m lazy. Contemplating whether to cook breakfast or go out and find somewhere quaint.

I would be alone but not lonely. I would relish the time, contemplating which activity to fit in first.

But here… My mood has plummeted. The rain doesn’t help. Here, I am looking at my life and at the people in it and wondering what I am doing. Realising the whole thing is a waste of time and energy.

How can one town have such an impact?