There is a certain automatic pilot-ness about my life right now.
This morning I got up, made tea, fed the animals, got the child some breakfast, played some games with him, wrote the rest of Rich's order of service, reordered the photographs for the song, double checked the timings, thought about clothes for church, turned on the tv for the child, froze the rest of last nights tea.....
What was the bit in the middle?
The planning for Rich's Service of Celebration.
That thing that we're doing tomorrow because the man I love, the man so many people love, has been killed in a bike accident. Yeah.
And that's how it is right now. There is a perpetual sickness to my stomach, a permanent nervousness, not just about tomorrow, but about the rest of my life. It's there, in so many ways.
I have nerves about tomorrow for so many reasons. I'm not sure exactly what is happening in parts of it. I don't know how it will go.
I don't want to say goodbye to him. I love him.
It's easier for some people, who hadn't seen him for years. Easier still for those who are doing things from a sense of duty, or for those who are doing things because of AC and I, or those who aren't doing anything for whatever reason. Easier still for those who cursed him whilst he was alive, who no doubt will dance. Thankfully there are precious few of those.
I will pull it out of the bag though, and I will read at his Celebration, and I *will* be strong. Just as he was. Because when you love someone, that's just what you do.