What a surprise, five months, stuck on my eyes
(apology to David Bowie)
Some good and some less good things
I was with Carol’s brother, Paul and I said one of Carol’s catchphrases and it was like she was there. Funny and sad, mostly funny.
I no longer have to compromise, I now make all my own decisions, good or bad, quickly or slowly, big or small.
I can do anything I want, if I wanted to get on a plane tomorrow I can do that.
I am sleeping a bit better, my new bed is really comfy.
The leg forced me to slow down and I think I’ve learnt that I don’t need to rush round like a “demented pootle” (Victoria Wood). Things will happen in their own good time.
I know what I don’t want: a dog, a cat, to do Airbnb, to have a lodger.
I love my house and am going to stay in it as long as I want.
I’ve still got quite a lot of things to do in the house, sorting out both Carol’s and my books, other assorted objects and reconfiguring how I use the space. It will take a while and that’s good as I need and want to be occupied. But I don’t want a job!
I’ve been thinking about friends who died too soon, Dave Royle 15th June 1996 and Wendy Ingham 17th June 1997. Both 36, Dave to AIDS, Wendy to nut poisoning. They both changed the world. Dave gave us books reflecting our gay lives and Wendy’s death directly led to nut allergy labelling and a wider public awareness about food allergies.
Rehabilitating my badly injured ankle has got me out walking every single day. I’ve started to meet my neighbours and that’s been very pleasant. The ones I’ve talked to all knew and liked Carol. I’ve done a bit of litter picking along the routes I travel and today was thanked by a passer by.
Dave and Paul and I planted some of Carol’s ashes yesterday. It felt like the right time and it was just us which was right too. We put them next to the ashes of Dave’s mother, Joyce, and Dave’s sister, Liz. Liz was Joyce’s second child to die before she did. So many people who have gone, the people who made up our lives.
Because Carol was not well and I was working we didn’t have much of a social life especially not in the last few years so now I have to build one up and that’s quite hard and sometimes I think I can’t be arsed.
I’m so very tired a lot of the time. In the past I would just keep going, I felt I had no choice when I was trying to keep us in a semblance of normality. Now I have to stop, I can’t plough on relentlessly. Crash instead.
Every day that passes is a day further away from Carol. It’s inevitable but I don’t want it. Carol gave me one of Tristan Gooley‘s books last Christmas, I want her to know that I met him on Friday and what a nice guy he is.
I miss physical contact.
I’m lonely. Sometimes I’m lonely when I’m with people.
Thankfully I like my own company.
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought I’d need so many people.