Cry Me a River

The seafront at Exmouth tonight after most of the holiday makers have gone home leaving the beach for the seagulls - and our footprints in the sand.

That song "Cry Me A River" has been running through my head all afternoon.  We eat our salad lunch in the garden. Then my husband says,

I'm going to have a lie down and go to ceramics later.

He says he's tired after all the emotions that came up in our session with our new clinical psychologist this morning. Feeling the loss of his life as he expected it to be... and the fear of losing my love....

Wednesday afternoons I think of as my time off  -  treasured, longed for, waited for, precious -  three  whole hours for me while he makes his weird and wonderful creatures at Unearth Studio. So when he says he's not going till later I feel like a child who has had her ice-cream taken away, her birthday party cancelled......

But I know that the river of tears that flows, in great snotty hiccups, bawled into tissues so that he doesn't hear me, isn't about losing an hour of my Wednesday afternoon....but losing all of it....my husband, word by word......the life I thought I had, slice by slice.

 Nearly three years on since those words Semantic Dementia broke up our world.....is it really only now that I'm feeling it - really in my core....what the deep earth must know when the fracking starts?

But it's also from that core that I can grasp that this isn't happening to me - although it feels like a tsunami - but I am happening to it.....moment by moment choosing to float or drown in the same wave.

 And ever since I can remember I've been able to swim like a dolphin.... and keep my eyes open under water.