Derek has been dead for nearly two weeks now. Today I am going down to London to see my friend Sandy, so I am feeling reasonably positive.
But last night was awful - went with B (v well meaning, didni't want to leave me alone) to the pub quiz. A lot of noise, laughter, questions that I didn't know (am weak on celebrities, sport, pop music, anagrams so generally do badly on quizzes anyway). In addition to feeling tired I just missed D like hell. Actually, hell, I've just realised, is a good word for the loss of a loved one. The psalm describes how whether the writer goes to the heights or depths, God is there.
But with bereavement, wherever you are, whatever you are doing, the beloved is NOT there. He was not there for me at the weekend when I was looking after my friends who had made considerable efforts to see me, and whom I wanted to spoil a bit - and I was reminded of how he was so good with food and entertaining.
He was not there for me on Monday when I was dealing with all that dreadful correspondence and the house felt sooooo empty. I can be on my own for short periods, but not for long periods, I realise having told someone at weekends that I have learnt to live on my own. Well, I have now unlearnt...
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