No running this weekend, in fact I was working for the majority of it.
On Friday the neighbours were treated to the visual spectacle of me trying to change two tyres on a bike for the first time ever. I think you can imagine that it was not a vision of efficiency or even remote competence. I got there in the end although I need to take the bike for a proper ride now on its road tyres to check that it actually all works correctly. Attempt 1 ended up with a wonky rear wheel and I’m keen to ensure that it’s straight before embarking on any expeditions in the Blackpool direction.
I had a sobering thought before I started typing this. Acknowledging that the day of the week and the date this year and last are out by 1 (which is why one’s birthday moves from one day of the week to the next each year) it is 12 months since I had what was to be my final conversation with my husband.
As we lived apart a lot of the time we used to talk every night on the telephone. Mark’s voice was suffering badly with the effects of the illness and so this was actually more of a struggle than normal. He was explaining to me that he’d had a fall outside his house, but he was OK and had been checked by the paramedics and hospital staff before being allowed to go home.
It was a relatively short conversation, I think because I’d rung quite late and had an early start on the Monday, which was to be one of those days that will stay with me forever.
It’s very strange. In many ways, it all seems such a long time ago. The regular conversations, the arduous trips up and down the motorways, the wonderful feeling of being as one when we were together. But on the other hand, the year has flown by. I can’t really account for all the things I must have done in the interim, even the recent decorating only seemed a matter of weeks after the last lot, which was done in January.
Tomorrow is going to be a strange day, not least because it’s not the anniversary date itself. That’s going to be dealt with on Tuesday.
I feel OK about it all – the above wording may sound a bit morose but the pain from those feelings has gone. Admittedly it’s been replaced by a type of numb, but that’s an improvement. Perhaps the song is wrong and in fact the (prescription) drugs do work
We’re thinking of you over these next days, Si.
Thanks Andrew. I can’t believe where the time has gone.