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  • Sudha

One year on...

This week has been pretty bad. It is always going to be bad. Every single day this past year has been hell. There have been days when I didn’t feel like living any longer. There have been days when I have just stayed in bed under the duvet for hours. I would drop the kids off, go straight back to bed and half hour before they came home, I will get up and act normal.


But I couldn’t even put on a front today. The house is a tip. The dishwasher hasn’t been emptied. The kitchen looks a bomb has just exploded (the fact that our eldest did blow up our kitchen last year is for another post!).


Amidst all this chaos, there has been a steady flow of flowers being delivered this week. I’ve run out of vases and am now using wine coolers. I look for rooms to display the flowers. I look around the house and still cannot believe he’s gone. That I will never ever see him again; that I will never have a laugh with him again – the many inside jokes we shared; where will they go now? They have lost their humour. If we saw an old couple walking together, we used to say that that will be us in 30/40 years’ time; where will all these dreams go now? They have become nightmares.


We’ve bought flowers to take to Paul tomorrow morning before the school run. I can't tell how the boys are. They are very good at hiding their true feelings from me. I can only hope that they are talking to at least one of their friends.


We are switching the Christmas tree lights on in the village in the evening to remember Paul. It will be a small gathering of friends from the village with mulled wine and mince pies. I am so lucky to live in this wonderful village and even more lucky to call so many neighbours friends.


As I am writing this, I am looking back at the day and wonder what I did all day; and feel ashamed that I did nothing much. I remember clearly how Paul would reflect on his day and feel very proud of his 'achievements' - they would usually be a run, a bike ride with the boys, a spot of gardening and a walk with his binoculars to end the day - with me hanging off his arm (usually reluctantly).


If Paul could see me now, he would be telling me to pull myself together and get on with life. I am frantically trying to tidy up the kitchen to assuage my guilt and desperate to write something down that I have 'achieved' today. And then I remember....


I put the bins out early today! Paul would be proud of me.

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