Monday, August 3, 2009

Like so many other days

Just as I have done so many times before, I am sitting here, typing on my own. The animals are fed, the child is still sleeping, and if I let myself, I could believe that Rich is asleep upstairs, and I should be going to wake him soon.

Except I shouldn't, because I should be leaving him to sleep today because it's the first day of his leave. And the AC should be going to his fathers this morning at 9, and I should be getting back into bed with Rich, all warm and gorgeous as he should be, and then having A Lovely Time.

Except I'm not, because instead, I'm thinking about photos, I'm thinking about powerpoint, I'm thinking about clothes, and I'm thinking about his Cremation and Celebration later on. Instead of loving my man, in physical way, I will watch him carried in by bearers, in a flagged coffin. Instead of making him a cup of tea, I will be drinking yet another one whilst people around me try to find words to say. Instead of sitting up, curled up on the sofa with him tonight, watching a film together, I will be sitting in a pub, with a few of his really good friends, and a few jars shall be had. And then I will come home to my empty house, and today will be done.

Today will be done.

In so many ways, I just want today over, so that so much of the pain and tension is gone. The AC realised again last night, just what Rich being gone means, and he roared in a way he hasn't before. He utterly roared. He thumped pillows and banged into stuff and worked out his grief again physically. He thinks nothing will ever be right without Rich.

What can I tell him? I think it too.

So that's what I told him. That Mummy thinks it too, but that it's ok, this feeling will pass, and we will have good times again. And no, they won't be so good, but they'll be a different good, and that's ok.

Poor little sod.

He cried himself to sleep again last night. I just wanted to photograph it and send it to the insensitive, heartless woman who said that it didn't matter how he and Rich felt about each other, blood was more important, and say "Look at this you silly cow."

Obviously I didn't. I just felt like it.

I looked back over some emails last night, looking for something, and several times the She-Ex refers to Rich "raising another man's child" as though it was a bad thing. They loved each other. Love like this, is not a bad thing. Until the physicality is gone, and then the more love there was, the more pain there is. The AC is crushed.

But he knows Rich is proud of him for getting his yellow tags yesterday. And he is glad that Rich didn't have to choose who to look at, because the BG would have been asleep when he was doing it, and even if she hadn't been, then Rich can see them both now whenever he wants to. I love that child.

I love AC
I love Rich
He loves us both.

That's what matters.

And so, like so many other days, I shall make yet another cup of tea.

No comments: