Last year. Wedding plans. Celebration, Kate and me. Me and Kate. Wheelchair into town, money out of the damn Nationwide, lovely purple dress for my soon to be wife.
Oh, and a ring. Simple gold band. And for me? No, I don't need one, because. Well? Because what?
Simple thing, denial. Words unspoken.
Truth around the corner, didn't want to see it coming.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
When nothing's better
After the high of last weekend it's to be expected. I enjoy a storm, but the rainy weather has brought in a low front for me.
And I'm feeling - nothing? But, in many respects? Not such a bad thing. Detached me. Looking down as an outside observer. Sometimes it's best to have nothing going on.
Recently found a route map for grief. All written down in Helvetica Bold. The first few numb months. Anger at "someone" for being left alone. Guilt for finding something to smile about. Unnatural "I can do anything" highs, followed by crashes of worthlessness. Weight loss. Sleepless nights. Wanting to feel passion again. Distress crashing back over like it was only yesterday, as the first year end arrives. Even the late night, detailed, end it all plans. Ploughing straight on at every bend. Can't, thought, kids, stop.
All normal. Very normal indeed. Seems I've never been this normal.
So, to have a head full of nothing. A blank canvas for those that care to make their mark. Not such a bad thing.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
And I'm feeling - nothing? But, in many respects? Not such a bad thing. Detached me. Looking down as an outside observer. Sometimes it's best to have nothing going on.
Recently found a route map for grief. All written down in Helvetica Bold. The first few numb months. Anger at "someone" for being left alone. Guilt for finding something to smile about. Unnatural "I can do anything" highs, followed by crashes of worthlessness. Weight loss. Sleepless nights. Wanting to feel passion again. Distress crashing back over like it was only yesterday, as the first year end arrives. Even the late night, detailed, end it all plans. Ploughing straight on at every bend. Can't, thought, kids, stop.
All normal. Very normal indeed. Seems I've never been this normal.
So, to have a head full of nothing. A blank canvas for those that care to make their mark. Not such a bad thing.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
That nostalgia thang
So I asked myself the question. Is nostalgia what it used to be?
And the answer? Nope.
It was better. I'm not the frantic fool I was; too eager to cram too much into every too drunken second. Happy to wander back alone at dawn for a cup of tea, fried egg breakfast, and chill over a chapter in some charity shop novel.
Had a blast from the megaphone heckling of our earnest posing neighbours, to the meandering round the yard art garden on Dungeness beach. Oh I knew I'd come home incoherently shattered from staying awake all hours, with a sore throat from shouting above the PA. Also knew I'd find fun in everything. I didn't know it'd be because I have such great friends. Despite being by myself, I was never a smile away from true company.
Also, it seems I'm a tart. Who'd have guessed?
And the answer? Nope.
It was better. I'm not the frantic fool I was; too eager to cram too much into every too drunken second. Happy to wander back alone at dawn for a cup of tea, fried egg breakfast, and chill over a chapter in some charity shop novel.
Had a blast from the megaphone heckling of our earnest posing neighbours, to the meandering round the yard art garden on Dungeness beach. Oh I knew I'd come home incoherently shattered from staying awake all hours, with a sore throat from shouting above the PA. Also knew I'd find fun in everything. I didn't know it'd be because I have such great friends. Despite being by myself, I was never a smile away from true company.
Also, it seems I'm a tart. Who'd have guessed?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Heat
Longest day today. Guess that means the shortest night too.
Hot and stuffy at work.
Reckon I'll cut some firewood at lunchtime, now winters coming...
Hot and stuffy at work.
Reckon I'll cut some firewood at lunchtime, now winters coming...
Rattle and hum
I really am dreadful at remembering time. I recall every detail of an event, except when it happened. I'm a chronological failure.
A while ago, and thanks to the fact I throw nothing away an old email tells me it was February last year, Kate became quite tired and breathless. Trouble climbing the stairs, couldn't sleep on her right hand side. Found her having sudden gasping panic attacks at night, stuck at the bottom of the stairs or in the kitchen, waiting patiently for me to help her back to bed.
Kate always enjoyed having her back rubbed. Which was great because I enjoyed doing it. Aches and pains of the day, soothed away in the evening. It was then I noticed as she talked to me of the little things I'd missed in the day that - she was missing something. Hands on her back and... weird? No vibration on her left side as she spoke. Asked her to hum. Nope, nothing there.
Despite her constant trips to the doctors and hospitals, somehow they'd missed this. The cancer, free to roam her body and create havoc where it fancied, had settled in the lining around her lung, and the irritation had caused fluid to build up, collapsing the lung.
Rushed her to hospital; where matter of fact, no-one in a hurry, nurses popped Kate, the kids, and me, in a drug store cupboard whilst waiting for a doctor and a bed. You couldn't make it up.
Twelve pints of fluid drained over days in hospital, lung lining glued back in place, they packed her off for who knows how long. Well. I know now. But I was so happy to have her back for that however long.
To feel that rattle and hum of life one more time.
A while ago, and thanks to the fact I throw nothing away an old email tells me it was February last year, Kate became quite tired and breathless. Trouble climbing the stairs, couldn't sleep on her right hand side. Found her having sudden gasping panic attacks at night, stuck at the bottom of the stairs or in the kitchen, waiting patiently for me to help her back to bed.
Kate always enjoyed having her back rubbed. Which was great because I enjoyed doing it. Aches and pains of the day, soothed away in the evening. It was then I noticed as she talked to me of the little things I'd missed in the day that - she was missing something. Hands on her back and... weird? No vibration on her left side as she spoke. Asked her to hum. Nope, nothing there.
Despite her constant trips to the doctors and hospitals, somehow they'd missed this. The cancer, free to roam her body and create havoc where it fancied, had settled in the lining around her lung, and the irritation had caused fluid to build up, collapsing the lung.
Rushed her to hospital; where matter of fact, no-one in a hurry, nurses popped Kate, the kids, and me, in a drug store cupboard whilst waiting for a doctor and a bed. You couldn't make it up.
Twelve pints of fluid drained over days in hospital, lung lining glued back in place, they packed her off for who knows how long. Well. I know now. But I was so happy to have her back for that however long.
To feel that rattle and hum of life one more time.
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