Still Crying

8th December 2012 Saturday

I cry a lot today. They just come, the tears, and I can’t stop them....in the garden this afternoon hacking at the honeysuckle and pulling up the slimey trail of nasturtiums - reminding me of the summer and my mother - she’s always somewhere near by when I have secateurs in my hand......

.......in the kitchen stirring the Christmas cake mixture, listening to the Messiah.....making a huge batch of mincemeat as if there were lots of people to eat it.....

.......in the bedroom listening to my husband who is feeling lost and miserable.....longing for him to hold me.....as if his arms could make me feel safe .....like they used to......

.....clearing out the pussy cat’s cupboard - throwing away his medicines, his brushes...ringing the Cat Protection League to see if they want his food, his basket.... remembering all those times he sat near me like a calm and quiet king while I squatted on the floor weeping.....

.......reading the newspaper about the people having their disability living allowances cut.....and realising that that’s us.....those words could be in our future...... 

Now the cake is out of the oven and the house smells of Christmas.....this one without my father or the pussy cat......I”m always telling my husband to think about all the things he can do instead of all the things he can’t do anymore.....easy for me to say... no wonder he doesn’t take any notice ......while I’m still cryng for the past....still raking through the ashes there , searching for remnants of him....