Getting through the days

...of the rest of my life. Strictly speaking, I've still got the best part of two weeks to go before I officially leave the world of work behind, but on Friday I handed in my laptop and staff pass and walked out of the building for the last time.  The mug in the picture retired with me.  I bought it in 2004, to fit in with the colour-coded section of the Contact Centre where I was then working.  The sections were decorated in blue or purple, along with a vivid pink section nicknamed "Barbie's Castle".  All I can say is that this is what happens when you allow a committee of staff representatives to choose the decor. I bought the mug in Whittard's in Swansea and it's come with me at every move since.  I reckon it deserves its honourable retirement.  It's traditional to have a whip-round when someone leaves and I asked anyone who wished to contribute to a gift for me to donate the money to Cancer Research instead. They raised over £150, plus Gift Aid on top

 It's Christmas afternoon/early evening and I'm knackered.  Sorry about the language,  but it's the only word that will do. I'm bathed and in my nightie and the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special hasn't even started yet.  So what, gentle reader, has led me to this pass?  Gather ye round... I'll be honest, I really wasn't looking forward to this Christmas.  In 2019, David was in hospital over Christmas, so it's the third one I've spent alone.  Blissed out on heavy-duty painkillers post-op  That's been by choice, by the way - I've had several invitations to Christmas Dinner from family and friends.  Christmas Day was always for just the two of us, to do as we pleased, watch what we wanted on TV, eat and drink what we liked.  Boxing Day we visited family, and Christmas Eve we were At Home to any friends who cared to drop in. David's parents were regulars and the event featured karaoke and cocktails.   David and his dad belting out "

  Two years.  Two whole years, and it feels like yesterday. I t's been a year since I last posted on this blog.  I started it as a way to help me cope with the overwhelming loss and grief I experienced in the days following David's death.  I find I no longer need to do that, so I haven't posted - and this blog is for me, so that's the way it is.  Two years on, it still seems totally preposterous that he's gone, but carrying on living is getting a bit easier.  Some things still hurt a bit  - like the picture that I hung in the hallway (because that's where my art gallery is, as I can't think of anywhere else to put it).  He wanted it in the living room, so while he was in hospital I moved it. It makes me sad that he didn't get to see it.  (And now I come to think about it, a medium gave me a message about a picture being put where it belongs and the penny just dropped!) And TV shows that he didn't get to see - he'd've loved Loki and Strange Ne

It’s been a year since my whole world fell apart.   The first raw wounds have healed over, although it still seems preposterous that he’s not around.  A big part of my life has been torn away, and I am learning to live without it - but it will always be missing. My world is being rebuilt, in a somewhat different shape.  Some things are still painful - I can't watch some TV programmes because they were so much a part of our daily routine.  I'm talking about the quiz programmes that are on ITV at teatime, things like t he Chase or Tipping Point .     It hurts that we won't be doing some of the things we were looking forward to doing together, like going to see the next Dr Strange film, or taking our Silver ballroom dance tests.   Twelve months ago, I held David’s hand and looked into his eyes as, around us, doctors and nurses were moving swiftly and purposefully and the numbers on the monitor went in the wrong direction. I whispered in his ear that if he needed to go, that w

It's been a while since I sat down to update this blog.  Where have I been?  Well, nowhere much - however, I've been filling my free time with other stuff, mostly making things.  And I've been learning to code - I know, at my age! - which both fascinates and frustrates me.   Anyway, I've decided that it's high time to shape myself and write another instalment.   David was a Billy Joel fan.  Billy Joel more or less passed me by - I knew Uptown Girl and Piano Man but that was about it.  In the early days of our relationship he wrote out the words of "She's got a way" for me.  (Did I write the lyrics of a song for him?  Yes, I did, but I'm not telling you what it was!) He was thrilled to get tickets to see Billy Joel at the NEC in 2006.   We set off mid-afternoon, heading for the Premier Inn where we'd booked a room - it seemed like a good idea not to rush back immediately after the concert.  It turned out to be just as well, as the Sat-Nav denied

I started this blog as therapy to help me manage the overwhelming grief of losing David.    Bringing to mind the  happy memories and sharing them has helped me - and some people have been kind enough to say they enjoy reading them.  If I'm not writing often, it's because I haven't felt the need, although I do plan to keep posting, in my erratic, rambling fashion. The past few weeks haven't been easy, though, and this time I'm not writing much about happy memories but more about what's been going on lately (normal service will be resumed next time). I'm not a royalist by any means (although I do have an extensive knowledge of the history of the royal family, courtesy of Dr Lucy Worsley, historical documentaries and   The Crown ) but I felt for the Queen at Prince Phillip's funeral.  She looked so lonely and frail. It brought back the way I felt in the days immediately following David's death, when the grief was very, very raw and it did upset me.  Tha