Christmas is coming and I am wondering whether I will make it home in time to catch it. Without you I don’t know quite what it will be, who we will be.
Part of me is tempted to camp out here in the Islamic world where the whole thing is easy to ignore.. But I know what you would want. You would want me to get my ass home so that M is not on his own.
We can both cope alone, but that is not how you would want this one done, so I’ll do my best bab. I know there is nothing I need to run away from and I don’t want to set up every holiday like a storm cloud and spend my seasons waiting for each one under an umbrella..
I will miss you. I do miss you. I don’t think that will stop whilst I love, breathe, pace. But there has to be space to celebrate, to keep you in sight without the neck-pain of endless backward looks. There is a lot of life, a lot of ritual, tradition, we need to make new now.
Looking at the dates, if I can get back it may be with just days to spare so I am planning ahead ordering gifts. That was never your strong point!
You would usually unearth gifts in black bin bags, or lose them and find them in August.. It didn’t really matter – you loved us every day, spoiled us every day. With love every day is special without a red circle on the calender, paper or ribbons.
I wish you could be with us. I really wish you could be with us. I thought getting some prints made up as gifts might be a good way to have you come along but I cried for 45 minutes just picking the pictures.
Whenever I think I’m all done with tears in turns out I’m not…
In a few minutes it is my birthday bab. Another first without you. And although I have not spent a birthday at home in years, I’m missing your call, your voice, your silly singing, you telling me that I will always be your baby.
This birthday will be quiet, no party, no cake and just one gift that mum smuggled into my bag back in early October. But that is ok. There will be other days for dancing, laughter to trade.
I will not spend all this day in the cloud but I think I am allowed half an hour letting tears flow.
On other years I would have moped and moaning about advancing age but your death has reminded me to be bloody grateful for another year alive, for life.
When I close my eyes I feel you beside me. When I look in the mirror I see your eyes older wiser in mine. I know you’re not so far away.
Love ya always.