Getting Better...Not Getting Better

All his own work - my great nephew's wonderful creative decorations on top of his grandma's cup cakes...( natural blue dye of course!)

My sweet great niece making a nest for her easter eggs in her father's lovely springy hair...

Easter Monday lunch - my Creamy Leek and Tomato Croustade ( an old Cranks recipe) for the vegetarians ...also appreciated by the meat eaters ( lamb) around the table...

and for pudding - Nigella's Clementine Cake - just boiled up pureed clementines, eggs, sugar and ground almonds...and my great nephew added the Lindt Orange Chocolate balls for the decoration.

Later we played football -  well, a version of football with  two very motley teams ( from a 72 year old to a 5 year old), in glorious warm sunshine...and later sat on the grass in the shade  and ate the left over eggs from the Easter Egg Hunt.

Today my wise and helpful therapist says,

"You don't have to let go of everything"....

I tell her about my "survivor's guilt"...Now I'm supposed to  enjoy all the fruits of Robin's hard work over the years...but without him it feels all wrong.

I see that I can let go of all the pain and suffering but hold on to all the good things about the past.....Robin's love.... take those with me into any future I can dream up.

I understand it with my head but the tightness in my lungs is constant...

I seem to be halted by pain at the moment....still invaded by grief...although I know this lingering illness is all part of transforming it....letting it evolve.

 So I think I'm getting better ... but not getting better as well....

In spite of lovely Middle Eastern lunch with dear friends it's a not-getting-better-day.

I long to go out in the garden with secateurs and weeding fork...but my stamina is minimal.

So I cut tall hyacinth bluebells, white lacy cow parsley, brilliant orange calendula flowers, pink spikes of London Pride,  a spray of acid yellow euphorbia, deep purple French lavender and soft  lime green hellebores and flop  them in a vase on the kitchen window sill ....and watch the birds instead.

Letting go of my longing.