Friday, August 7, 2009

The other end of week 3

Today the AC and Nathan and Megan and their mother and I went to Sandringham to walk in the woods, let the children run off some energy and so on.

I phoned the Council Tax people to let them know that I was a single person occupancy house now. They are going to sort out lots of things, bless them.

I sorted out a couple of other things as well.

It's all going to be fine.

We went to KSW and the AC was great, and Sir spoke to him about his grading last week. When he asked the AC what the AC thought he ought to work on, apparently the AC said his forms. Which is exactly what Sir thought as well.

And he said he would ask Rich to help him, but he couldn't now.



Off to bed.

night night.

The end of week 3

Week 3

21 days without him.

21 days of no kisses, no cuddles, no random touches, no squeezing past, no loving, no sex, no nothing.

Interesting Cremation.
Lovely Celebration.
Fantastic support.
Great friends.
Bad news.

But no him. The vitalness that was him just slipped away that day.

It is still here, at times. In the dark of the night I can hear his voice, feel his touch in my dreams, and wake to think he is still here, that if I slide my hand back, I will feel the warmth of his body, smooth skinned and firm. That if I move my body back, to touching his, that his arm will come over me, pulling me into him, folding himself around me, legs over my legs, arms over my arms, his mouth on the back of my neck.

I miss him.
All of him.

Everything we did, we did together. Most of those things we did separately, but we did them in a shared space. He read, I marked books. He played games, I blogged. I baked, he tidied. We did different things in the same space.

But I know he loves me. And I love him.

Plan for the day....


washing machine and tumble drier are doing.
dishwasher needs to go on.
I'm showered, but need to dress, the child needs to dress.

Possibly we're going out with friends, but if not we'll go to town and get tea and cake.

We'll play Descent, we'll play on the Wii, and then later, the AC just asked if we could look at the pictures from Monday. He doesn't want to do it now, but later.

That's fine.

We also need to write thankyou cards and we need to think about who else we need to write to.

And I need to fill in the Child Tax Credit form so I can get the £10.50 a week. Mmmm. That's going to go a long way...

I wish...

.... Richard was still alive Mummy, because he made good quests."

The AC is struggling today.

To some extent, I am glad that the BG didn't know her Daddy properly in the last 4 years, that she hadn't been allowed to maintain a proper relationship, that her mother did choose to take her so far away, because that little girl doesn't have the immediate everyday hurt that the little boy on the floor playing Descent does. She isn't expecting a story in the evening, or looking up everytime a bike pulls into the layby. She doesn't think about what he would like for tea. She doesn't call him for help in wrestling games and then realise that he will never come. She has her own hurts, from a distance, and I am so sorry for those hurts, but I am glad that they are different to what the AC has, because his heart is broken.

I did the blog for her on Tuesday, and I have no idea what she thinks, how she's doing. I know she's back to school on Friday, and I hope that she does well, that this isn't used as some reason why she isn't reading properly yet. I worry so much about that little poppet, and I love her, and I refuse to turn it off.

When we talked about getting married, Rich asked me to make sure to look after the BG if anything happened to him. He said he knew he didn't have to ask me, because he knew I loved he, but it needed to be said out loud. And I promised I would.

Strange how things turn out.

But I love him, I trust him, and I know that whatever reason he had for leaving things the way he did, he did it for a good reason, and one that was the best reason for the AC, the BG and I. He knew he could depend on me to look after the AC.

I know he loves us, he told us on the day he died. We were so lucky.