It's a beautiful day today. Rupert has been outside, sunning himself like a cat on the concrete. The sun was gently on my shoulders as I took the compost out. It has been exactly one year since Gerard died. I arrived too late to sit with him as he died. To hold his hand or say a few last words of love. I don't know how much that would have mattered to him, he's gone now, but I would have liked the chance. I remember sitting with him after he was gone and then stepping out into the most beautiful February evening imaginable. The air was soft and balmy, the light lucid, luminous. As I drove home the car lights were like a river of sparkle.
I've had a few cries today. I can't believe that this happened (still), that it's been a year. I still miss Gerard, it hasn't gone away. Although I think that I am starting to function a bit better. Not that you would be able to tell from the back yard. Every now and then I have a glimmer of feeling that feels like real, felt life is coming back. That the stones of grief that fill you up are starting to move a bit. But it also feels like memory and sadness are all I have of him and I don't want to lose that last thing. Hopefully one day I will have memory and happiness.
Tonight we are going to the park with friends. To raise a glass and hang out. It feels like a good thing to do.