It’s windy today

Do you know how much effort it takes just to ignore being met with a constant lack of interest?

Having a hard time again this morning. She was all I could think about before I fell asleep and has been on my mind all morning.

It’s strange how something as simple as her house being gone makes such a difference. I don’t think it would be as painful if I could just go and sit in her living room and watch tv; or sit in the small room; or, most importantly sit in the kitchen.

But everything’s gone. That place doesn’t exist any more and even though I’ve got a lot of the stuff from there here, it’s not the same. Out of the context of her house; it’s just a table.

I am enjoying this writer thing. It’s a handy little fucker.

Ooo, rude!

Anyway… it’s been a busy week and I’ve got the day off today so I’m sat here listening to Velvet Underground having just washed the missus’ dishes. Tut.

It’s weird being back on this computer. Where it all happened. It’s even more weird that it’s sitting on my grandma’s kitchen table in our very own (rented) cottage.

It’s really hard. I never thought of my grandma being gone and it’s pretty tough sometimes. Nothing’s hit me like this before. She was so important, almost vital, to me. It’s much easier than those first few weeks but there are times when it comes back and it can be overwhelming for a second or so.

”…a purple dog that wears spats”

On a lighter note it’s Autumn and I’m ridiculously happy about that. It’s easily my favourite time of the year; it feels so calm and a little sad. I think that’s always been the state where I’ve found the most peace. I remember it very well from childhood. I remember standing on our garden on a September evening, the sun going down and the air getting cold, listening to the quiet. It always seemed to be quiet then. Just the sounds of the wind in the trees and the occasional car in the distance. I’d sit and play with the grass. Just touching it and thinking of it as something alive. I still often do. It would strangely take a huge burden from me to think that one day it will die and that so will everything else. Knowing things die. That there’s so much pain and inevitable heartache in the world that will come from loss. It made me calm, then it made me happy, because no matter what you will one day lose you have it right now and that’s beautiful.

That wasn’t really a lighter note at all. Hm.