nice place to live. They had always
enjoyed it and having the bank holiday Monday off made it even better.
She returned to the house, locked the door and
resumed her position on the sofa. The TV still on in the background its
sound low blocking out the silence of the house. A quick text to her
sister .. “Summer BBQ????????” no need for a further explanation.
Within seconds the reply. “Escape plan or join the
BBQ????”
“Escape plan!”
It frustrated her that her sister didn’t just come
out and say and remind her of the event instead of trying to shield her from
it. Perpetually being the big sister she supposed. But this was to
be a year of firsts. The first valentines without him, their
birthdays, Wedding anniversary, Christmas and the first anniversary of
his death. All those epic firsts to get through.
Last month she had her first birthday without
him. A day that she was dreading. Not that extra year older dread
but being without Rob. He usually changed his schedule so that he was
home for her birthday so that she wouldn’t wake up alone. He would
surprise her with a trip away or dinner in their favourite restaurant,
somewhere that she could dress to the nines. They would spend time with her
family too and she would feel cherished surrounded by those she loved and that
loved her. This year, her year of firsts she woke up alone, but was
determined to go to work and treat it like any other day. She made the bed,
smoothed the duvet cover like she always did and fluffed the pillow that didn’t
have any indent other than her own. “Why can’t you give me a sign that
you are here?” she said aloud in frustration. “I miss you so much.”
At work her colleagues had brought a cake and sang
Happy Birthday. Again she tried to act normal. Thanked them and
sliced the cake for everyone to tuck into. She had said to Fiona that she
didn’t want a fuss and for once it appeared Fiona had listened to her. As
a department for birthdays they would usually go out. Lunch or cocktails
were the traditional birthday celebrations and make a day of it but she had
declined this offer. Maybe next year was her reply. There was
always a maybe.
She had made an attempt at normality, went to her
Mums for a family meal instead of going out, had a couple of glasses of wine
but left early in a taxi. Her first year without a To My Wife card.
After checking the lock on the front door, again,
she walked round the house checking windows were closed and turned off the
small table lamp. Time for bed. She was paranoid about making sure
the doors were locked and she could go safely upstairs. Looking in the
mirror she felt like she was forty-eight not twenty-eight. Grief had taken
its toll on her and it was a cycle that she didn’t think she could or would
want to break free from. Her hair was dull needed cut and if she caught
the light she knew her roots would need coloured soon. She carefully
removed her make up all part of her night-time routine, ran a bath, filling it
with bubbles the one luxury she allowed herself and soaked in the hot
water. If she closed her eyes she could replay this same scenario a
thousand times but with a different outcome. Rob would bring her a glass
of wine, she would ask him to scrub her back and it would all get very messy as
he would join her! She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away that had
fallen without her even noticing. Would this feeling of loss ever go
away?
As she dried off something caught her eye on the
floor. A shiny penny. Where had that come from? She picked it
up and put it in a dish on top of the drawers. If she didn’t pick it up
then it would surely end up being vacuumed away later when she did her house
work. She couldn’t remember dropping any coins but then again she could
hardly remember what she did yesterday. Fluffing the pillows and punching
them into a shape she was comfortable with she tried to
enjoyed it and having the bank holiday Monday off made it even better.
She returned to the house, locked the door and
resumed her position on the sofa. The TV still on in the background its
sound low blocking out the silence of the house. A quick text to her
sister .. “Summer BBQ????????” no need for a further explanation.
Within seconds the reply. “Escape plan or join the
BBQ????”
“Escape plan!”
It frustrated her that her sister didn’t just come
out and say and remind her of the event instead of trying to shield her from
it. Perpetually being the big sister she supposed. But this was to
be a year of firsts. The first valentines without him, their
birthdays, Wedding anniversary, Christmas and the first anniversary of
his death. All those epic firsts to get through.
Last month she had her first birthday without
him. A day that she was dreading. Not that extra year older dread
but being without Rob. He usually changed his schedule so that he was
home for her birthday so that she wouldn’t wake up alone. He would
surprise her with a trip away or dinner in their favourite restaurant,
somewhere that she could dress to the nines. They would spend time with her
family too and she would feel cherished surrounded by those she loved and that
loved her. This year, her year of firsts she woke up alone, but was
determined to go to work and treat it like any other day. She made the bed,
smoothed the duvet cover like she always did and fluffed the pillow that didn’t
have any indent other than her own. “Why can’t you give me a sign that
you are here?” she said aloud in frustration. “I miss you so much.”
At work her colleagues had brought a cake and sang
Happy Birthday. Again she tried to act normal. Thanked them and
sliced the cake for everyone to tuck into. She had said to Fiona that she
didn’t want a fuss and for once it appeared Fiona had listened to her. As
a department for birthdays they would usually go out. Lunch or cocktails
were the traditional birthday celebrations and make a day of it but she had
declined this offer. Maybe next year was her reply. There was
always a maybe.
She had made an attempt at normality, went to her
Mums for a family meal instead of going out, had a couple of glasses of wine
but left early in a taxi. Her first year without a To My Wife card.
After checking the lock on the front door, again,
she walked round the house checking windows were closed and turned off the
small table lamp. Time for bed. She was paranoid about making sure
the doors were locked and she could go safely upstairs. Looking in the
mirror she felt like she was forty-eight not twenty-eight. Grief had taken
its toll on her and it was a cycle that she didn’t think she could or would
want to break free from. Her hair was dull needed cut and if she caught
the light she knew her roots would need coloured soon. She carefully
removed her make up all part of her night-time routine, ran a bath, filling it
with bubbles the one luxury she allowed herself and soaked in the hot
water. If she closed her eyes she could replay this same scenario a
thousand times but with a different outcome. Rob would bring her a glass
of wine, she would ask him to scrub her back and it would all get very messy as
he would join her! She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away that had
fallen without her even noticing. Would this feeling of loss ever go
away?
As she dried off something caught her eye on the
floor. A shiny penny. Where had that come from? She picked it
up and put it in a dish on top of the drawers. If she didn’t pick it up
then it would surely end up being vacuumed away later when she did her house
work. She couldn’t remember dropping any coins but then again she could
hardly remember what she did yesterday. Fluffing the pillows and punching
them into a shape she was comfortable with she tried to
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