Peace

Tonight I have a peacefulness, that cannot be whisked away by anyone.

Right now, I can feel his love for me. I can feel his understanding of the things I have tried to do. I know he accepts that I have done my best for him in a way that no one else could. I have not shirked my responsibilities, nor have I run away from what had to be done.

I saw his body, not once, but twice. I cherished that time, drank my tea, talked to the man I love, stroked his head, mourned each broken bone and blemished skin, wept for our loss, and praised for his death. I held his hand, kissed his face, let my tears fall on his heart. I said my see you laters, and my fare thee wells, and I walked out with my head high and my game face on. I left the things that needed leaving with him, and took that which needed taking with me.

I love him.

No matter what it costs me, I will do the things he asked me to do, if I can. And if I can't, I know that he will know that, and he will understand, and those situations that prevented me will be understood and reckoned with.

The AC and I will talk over his tribute tomorrow, and what the AC wants to say and what he has to do. The long set of photos are done, just the short set to go. And they will be done.

Tomorrow I will photocopy his Order of Service at school. In colour. With pictures.

On Monday we will cremate his shell, and Celebrate his life. Those who care will be there. Those who can't care, or don't care, won't. Those who can't come but want to have already said they can't, have already spoken their tribute to me, have already expressed their care to the small and unhappy child who sleeps upstairs.

And then, for a while, we can rest.