I observe myself doing all the usual things — shopping, feeding the cats, vacuuming the floors, watching the shows I like on telly.... Part of me just can't understand how I can go on acting so normal. My friend Mo said that when her first husband died — years ago, in a sudden and shocking way when he was still young — she used to think afterwards, 'How can the birds go on singing?' What I am experiencing is not like that. I'm quite happy for the world to remain normal; it's me being normal that seems bizarre.
And yet, what else is there to do? We had arrived at quite a pleasant lifestyle, in the way we conducted the everyday trivia. It was something we enjoyed together; now I need to learn how to enjoy it when it's for one.
It does make it seem, sometimes, as if he must still be here. Because there I am, going about my usual business just as if he was.