… and its 41 days since I last massaged the smooth skin on your shoulders.
Today I have resolved to start writing down memories when I think of them.
Today’s memory is actually H’s. It’s the sniffing game you two played in bed. It was a Daddy-son game than involved sniffing air out of your nose, taking turns, and seeing who could sniff the longest and loudest. I don’t pretend to understand it, it’s a boy thing. But its a game that only belonged to you and H.
This morning H tried to teach me the game, but I believe I must suck at it as can only do girl sniffs.
You and your boy were just an awesome little team.
The second memory is K’s. It’s the night-time ritual of you cuddling her to sleep and her tickling your knuckles as she nodded off.   She loved “soft people” and I’d have to agree that the smooth tanned skin on your knuckles fit the bill very nicely. I don’t know how you could stand it as when she does it to me it is like a fly that keeps landing on my skin and tickling me … but you would let her stroke your skin for hours.
You and your girl are so alike in many ways – neither of you are particularly ticklish (whereas H and I really are).  You have the same long, long legs and long, long toes.

I’ve cried already this morning with the complete shitenhuasen (new swear word of the day courtesy of Jules) of what has happened to us.  Our fairytale doesn’t have a happy ending – we didn’t live happily ever after.  That 50th or 60th wedding anniversary we wanted to celebrate isn’t going to happen.

That’s the drum so far today.
Your eldest sister is dropping in on her way home from the farm.
I love her to bits and she has a heart of gold, but the tact of a rhinoceros.
Last night’s comment was “just be glad you didn’t have to live through the great war when whole towns lost their sons and husbands and fathers”.
Weeeeeellllll OK that was sad for a lot of people but umm ….. doesn’t really help me much.
The mean part of me wanted to point out that at least they had the opportunity to say goodbye and they knew their loved ones were in danger every day (which is its own special brand of hell), whereas I kissed a perfectly healthy man off to work (as we’ve done for 12.5 years) and he didn’t come home.  Not The Same.
Anyway – I shouldn’t compare (and nor should C) because each person deals with their personal hell in a different way and has different sets of support.  I’m lucky that you were liked by the whole of Australia ( so it seems) and I have lots of support.  Despite that, I still don’t have you and that fact alone sucks beyond the telling of it.

Love you to the end of time,