Little big things

I have, over the last few months, worked hard at "doing" normal. Part of that has been getting on with things. What I've not done, though, and I must, is sort through The Husband's "stuff". I've done very little of that - in our shared office and in the wardrobe.

It's difficult. Because. For seven weeks, he was coming home. I had to adjust to being in our space - with all his things - while I waited for him to come home. I did. But. In the firm belief that he'd be back home and our life together would continue.

Then he didn't and will. Never.

Because of that nearly two-month patch, there seemed no urgency or point to sorting anything. Oh, if you're wondering, I have sorted the papers and things I've had to.

Then, two things happened.

On Monday night, I had a vivid dream and I woke up on Tuesday morning and his warm, gentle presence was palpable. But. The Husband was not there. I remembered: he is dead.

I cannot describe the emptiness. It's not being on my own. It's not being alone. It's the absence of the presence and the being able to say what jumps into your head. Just. Because.

Tears haven't been far most of the last few days.

Then, yesterday. South Africa won the Rugby World Cup. Love of rugby, believe it or not, is something we both shared. He was a good - and senior - schoolboy player, and would have continued had he not been injured. I, on the other hand, have been a spectator - also going back to my school days. We were both looking forward - with great expectation - to this tournament.

Yesterday, our usual crowd gathered to watch. Again. Nerves were shattered. It's also been really weird watching rugby without him - especially the last four weeks as the Bokke got closer and closer to the final. Usually mild mannered, he'd be shouting at the players and the ref, and...generally really be in the moment match.

Last night was bittersweet. For the first time in 23 years, he wasn't commentating the match or the first person to hug me - or who he hugged - after the win.

It's the not sharing of those really little things that is so big.

Doing "normal" is not really "normal" at all. Yet. I wonder if it ever will be, again.

Until next time
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma
Post script

If this post might seem familiar, it's because I'm doing two things:

• re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine....?
• and "re-capturing" nearly two years' worth of posts.

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Original artwork: @artywink

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