138 days….

Today was … OK.

Busy-ness chases away the grief for a while, but it always comes back to bite me in the bum in the evenings.

So many times a day I stop and wonder how the HELL we got here. It just doesn’t make sense and it never will.  You were such a great driver … and even though you weren’t driving, it just seems so odd that this could happen to you.  To us.



I just can’t help thinking that this is my punishment for something.  Maybe I didn’t appreciate what I had enough.  Maybe I was too smug.  Who knows?


I made some pumpkin scones to take over to Mum’s tonight.  Rocks as per usual.  I just can’t make good scones.  You would have liked them though…

On the way home, I found myself bawling my eyes out again.  Not so much that I couldn’t drive … I’ve perfected the knack of the functional cry…. but it’s all just wrong.  I’d trade anything to have you back.  I would sell my soul.  Oh yes I would.

I love you forever.