25th March 2013
I didn't mean my sudden quiet gasp to be audible, I didn't mean for those tears to fall, I didn't initiate the memories so pungent, so powerful to rise with such a searing pain that the tears just fell. I tried to talk over them and carry on as we had been, but putting you in the jumper I haven't seen you wear since before the accident sought out deeply buried memories.
Memories of walks with the kids, of a chest that used to fill it, strong and firm, of arms that would lift me up, my protests making the kids laugh.
As you wear it now and sit in your chair, helmet on to protect your head, head drooping down with tiredness and an arm that shakes a great deal these days and one that does not move, I just can't help those tears.
I make out your slurred speech as you say 'what's up?' And then you too start to cry, you can't have heard me, you must have picked up on my sudden change in energy. So in tune with me you are...
But what good is it to dwell? Memories only make me sad and I have no choice but to keep moving, away from memories of where we were and how and who we were. No choice but to keep moving, memories make you stand still, reflect, look back, and I'm not strong enough to do that yet.
And it's strange because its almost as though I have put it on hold, knowing deep down I may have to confront it one day, the other part of me knowing that I am so endlessly grateful for your unchanged love for me and for the progress you make and how our love is still so strong, that I maybe I never will have to confront it?
Then a tiny memory of you as you were flits by...
One day I suppose I will have to.
For now my angel I sit, noise of the tumble dryer, the washing machine and dishwasher disturb, rhythmical tapping if my fingers upon keyboard. And I miss you lying next to me on the sofa, you had to go back again today and its just not right.
I need you here and I miss you.