After the cleaner leaves this morning, it's wonderful to have time to NOT do all the things on my list - ring the doctor, book a hotel, join the cinema club, write a condolence card, check the bank balance. And do some things that aren't on it - clean out the bathroom cabinet, take the sofa covers to the dry-cleaners, walk in the park while the sun shines, buy Seville oranges to make marmalade, read some chapters of one of my father's books.
Elastic time, unbounded time. I make up the beginning, middle and end of it. I start something, leave the mess on the table, go out and finish it when I come back. And of course it still runs out, time always does for me, before I'm ready....I'm tired before I'm complete. But it's just me and the warp and weft of my day. Me in charge of the shuttle.
I miss Robin, achingly, but I don't miss that dreadful feeling of trying to squeeze two people's lives into one tiny time capsule..... which is already full to the brim with meeting wants and needs and arranging doctor's appointments and staving off poleaxing anxiety.
I like it - this unbounded time/space for me. But it's also unfamiliar, unknown. No wonder my throat is sore and my head aches. My body questioning this untested terrain ahead.
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