Belongingness.

In the past year I've never spoken to anyone else that really knows. Well. Except my occasional, can't find her at the moment, hairdresser. Young girl, tragically lost her husband a few months before Kate died. She really knows.

A question or two posed over on the recently discovered for me, Merry Widow discussion board - "Where do I belong?. Where do I fit in - what purpose have I got - what is the point? I would love to enjoy my own company. How do I do that?"

Well. Guess it's hard to explain. But those feelings? They're mine too. Belonging.

And having read them, I realise I have some of the answers. Not all. But some.

First. I belong to my kids. No question, from twilight to lights out, and the occasional nightly awaken. I am theirs. Sometimes till I scream inside. Sometimes till I scream out loud too - but when all else fails, they are my loving purpose. The point for going to work. And coming home.

Second. Family. They may disagree with me - I may shout, but they've known me long enough to cope with the wobbles. There's not enough time left in my life for pussy footing...

Third. Friends. Down the road neighbour friends, friends who need something, friends who'll hop in an open top car and drive through thunderstorms to spend an evening talking crap, musical friends who'll vaguely remember a three chord tune, friends who'll pop up an instant message to say "how's y'world?" right when you want. No purpose, or point - but fitting in and belonging to them, for the most part, works.

Enjoy my own company though? Guess that's going to take a while. Not sure that I ever did. Certainly all those years of waking together beat being alone.

But I'm not kidding myself. Often on the outside looking in - I belong to those precious moments that make me smile. A spot of joined up thinking stiches those moments into a life worth living.