Have You Got Your Unicorn?

12th July 2012 Thursday

The pussy cat wakes me at 5am wanting a drink. From the dripping bath tap. Then he curls up by my hip - a small soft comma in the folds of the duvet.

I slip out to take the letter to the vet’s and hand it to the receptionist as she opens up the practice. Not sure why I feel so guilty.

Strawberries for breakfast from the allotment - ice cold and not very sweet. A glass of  sweetpeas on the table - pale paper pastels. Like having my mother here - we had bunches of them at her funeral. She died four years and two days ago. Rain spatters on the windows and soaks into the pots on the patio which have been decimated by the snails. Only a few begonias and slug bitten geraniums left standing.

As I leave the house to go to the farmers’ market my husbnd says,

Is it raining?

Yes.

Have you got your unicorn?

Do you mean my umbrella?

Yes - what’s a unicorn then?

I tell him and we laugh.

Later I meet up with a dear friend for coffee. My heart goes out to her. Her husband has the same condition as mine only he’s had it for much longer. She tells me about the good days and the bad days. I try and imagine ten years ahead - maybe like her I’ll be thinking about care homes then.

But not today. Today we go the hospital together for his chest X-ray. He calls it a lung thing.Today we cook supper together. And play a game of scrabble afterwards. He wins and it doesn’t matter neither of us knows the word LOUND. He found it in the dictionary so it counts. 

Like love counts..... and remembering to laugh.