Yesterday I made dinner I came home and made dinner.
I know that is a strange thing to write about but I haven’t made myself a decent meal for 15 years. I make food and either burn it, don’t eat it, or put it in the fridge where it normally goes off.
The thing is I haven’t enjoyed anything for a long time, I have pretended to enjoy things or have enjoyed but not at 100%, it’s like there has been a haze, a beautiful day but not in definition, the sun shines but it’s a little misty. Not anymore, now the sun is clear, the mist has lifted, the silhouettes are sharp and everything stands out, the grass is green on all sides but I have my own side and I don’t covert anyone else’s grass mine is just fine thank you.
I used to love Saturdays, shopping at W.H.Smiths was one of my favourite places to do. I loved browsing the books and magazines, pens, stationary in fact anything in that shop was fine to me. I knew all the staff and they knew me.
They are still all there. After Richie died I used to still go in there because…….
Once I was in there looking at a book and a customer started shouting at me. I started crying, people say that living in London can be a cold lonely isolated life but that is not true. I live in a community and everyone knows what is going on in everyone’s life just like in a small village. A member of staff saw what happened and came over and said. “You can look at anything you like”
They remembered me for all the years I had come in to the store and they knew about Richie’s story because of the media coverage.
Well that feeling has finally passed. I feel for the people who have had a terrible tragedy in their lives and feel there is no where to go, I’m sorry that they feel that life will never get better. I know it will.
I’m no superwoman, I’m just a normal woman who has had to deal with a terrible event. I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t want it. yet out of this terrible death and pain has come acceptance.
Acceptance for where I am at the moment, acceptance for what I had to leave behind. I remember sitting with a friend and crying I was desolate, I kept saying that I wanted Richie back, I don’t remember how long it had been since he had died but I wanted him back so much it hurt.
She told me he was in my past. Yes I know but how painful was that to hear.
Well he is part of my past but he is a vibrant living part of my past, I didn’t want to hear that and I was not pleased to hear it, but she was right.