* Poor little old single lady — it's a dead giveaway as I buy myself two carrots, a quarter cabbage, a tiny head of broccoli, only half a dozen eggs. Single and frugal.
* I've known my dear friend A for a long time now, but — both busy for years with sick husbands, as she still is — we only see each other now when we bump into each other out shopping. Luckily that happens quite often. Now that Andrew's gone, she makes a point of giving me, along with her beautiful wide smile, a quick pat on the arm, hug, or kiss on the cheek. She understands that I don't get so much of that any more.
* These days, when the toilet isn't flushed properly, or the dining table becomes cluttered with unread newspapers, or finger marks appear around the fridge door handle ... I can no longer assume it's him. Revelation! Maybe it was always me, or at least a lot more often than I imagined. (I'm glad I didn't go crook at him for things like that but just quietly dealt with them, or how mean and guilty I'd be feeling now!)
* I've internalised him — all those empowering remarks. When it was no longer safe for him to drive and I took over full time, I used to find it irritating when he would say to me, in the middle of some sticky situation in which I was concentrating hard, 'You're doing well!' I wished he'd be quiet so I could be sure to stay focused. Now, though, those words come back to me at such times, as the reassurance they were meant to be, and I'm glad of them. So many other things he praised me for too, always admiring of any competence I showed at anything, and very nice it was to have it said. It's good now, when I must be more self-reliant than ever before, to have those oft-repeated compliments in my head, reminding me that I am capable and resourceful.
* I never have to worry about him any more, I realise suddenly — and then realise what a huge relief that is.
* Off to attend a lecture about growing one's own food, I realised I was a bit scared about fronting a room full of strangers, after my experience in December when I went to a xmas party and saw the couples visibly close ranks against me. I discovered it's quite different at a lecture. Nice, friendly people, whether couples, singles, or families. Everyone, including me, was intent on hearing the information we'd come for; I suppose that makes it different from a social occasion.
* We did the best we could, both of us — and it was very good. Sometimes, for a moment, I think, 'Yes, but what was the point of it all?' Then I recollect: Love was the point, always; and is and continues to be the point. Of it all.
* I've known my dear friend A for a long time now, but — both busy for years with sick husbands, as she still is — we only see each other now when we bump into each other out shopping. Luckily that happens quite often. Now that Andrew's gone, she makes a point of giving me, along with her beautiful wide smile, a quick pat on the arm, hug, or kiss on the cheek. She understands that I don't get so much of that any more.
* These days, when the toilet isn't flushed properly, or the dining table becomes cluttered with unread newspapers, or finger marks appear around the fridge door handle ... I can no longer assume it's him. Revelation! Maybe it was always me, or at least a lot more often than I imagined. (I'm glad I didn't go crook at him for things like that but just quietly dealt with them, or how mean and guilty I'd be feeling now!)
* I've internalised him — all those empowering remarks. When it was no longer safe for him to drive and I took over full time, I used to find it irritating when he would say to me, in the middle of some sticky situation in which I was concentrating hard, 'You're doing well!' I wished he'd be quiet so I could be sure to stay focused. Now, though, those words come back to me at such times, as the reassurance they were meant to be, and I'm glad of them. So many other things he praised me for too, always admiring of any competence I showed at anything, and very nice it was to have it said. It's good now, when I must be more self-reliant than ever before, to have those oft-repeated compliments in my head, reminding me that I am capable and resourceful.
* I never have to worry about him any more, I realise suddenly — and then realise what a huge relief that is.
* Off to attend a lecture about growing one's own food, I realised I was a bit scared about fronting a room full of strangers, after my experience in December when I went to a xmas party and saw the couples visibly close ranks against me. I discovered it's quite different at a lecture. Nice, friendly people, whether couples, singles, or families. Everyone, including me, was intent on hearing the information we'd come for; I suppose that makes it different from a social occasion.
* We did the best we could, both of us — and it was very good. Sometimes, for a moment, I think, 'Yes, but what was the point of it all?' Then I recollect: Love was the point, always; and is and continues to be the point. Of it all.
I love all your posts, Rosemary. They are all so honest and endearing.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness for friends. "A" seems very special.
I love your revelation about toilets and smudges and such. Of course, your closing lines are the best. Love. That's what it's all about.
Thank you, Linda, for reading and caring. xx
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