This week, week 15, has not been a good one.
The loss of Neil the Minister has devastated the AC all over again, just as we as a family were starting to show signs of recovery behind closed doors. We're good at looking good outside the house, but inside is where the child and I agreed to be true to each other, all the time, even if it made the other one sad.
We keep to that. I don't sadden him without cause, obviously. He's six. He needs a strong Mummy, but also one that shows she is sad every now and again. Just not hysterically, and for days on end. That's rubbish.
Caring for the small person and sisters on Wednesday was an eye opener, but also good. Small people were to be a big part of our world, Rich and I, and now they won't be. BG can grow up knowing she is the only child of his blood, but having a stepbrother who shared her fathers heart. Annie yesterday said that it was obvious that the AC was the child of Rich's heart and hearth, and only accidentally not of his loins. I liked that.
Tomorrow will be tomorrow. We get up early, we catch the train, we enjoy the thing we have to do, and once again, we, and my parents, will be the only ones there. No-one else, who cares *sooooooo* much, will be there. Again. And do you know what Dear Reader? That's ok by me. It's ok by the AC, who is Very Clear who he liked and didn't like from the Celebration. That's fine.
I miss him though. I wanted to tell him things today, and I couldn't hear his responses. I won't pretend that we talk all the time, because frankly, I find that weird. But I tell him things sometimes, important things, and that's good to do.
Tonight the house is big but doesn't feel that empty. Sometimes, I know he's around. Sometimes, he's not. He's not a tame lion.....