Dear Darl, it’s 30 December, 2011.

669 days…

Lately, when I am on the treadmill in the mornings, I’ve taken to holding onto the bars, shutting my eyes and zoning out for the 40 or so minutes I’m on there for.  (The ‘holding on’ is necessary or I’ll fall off the blessed thing).

Well, OK, not all that time … I need to spend the first 5 minutes moaning, watching the timer countdown, watching my pulse rate climb from 72 to 155 bpm, and feeling like I may die any minute from the sheer exertion … but after that when I settle into a rhythm… I can zone out.

….and listen to music.

I’ve learned not to play The Luckiest or Last Day on Earth while I’m on  the treadmill though, or I can’t breathe for crying.

But this morning, Come Back Again by Daddy Cool was on the playlist and I remembered us dancing with wild abandon at a wedding.    Having fun with it.  Your strong arms around me. Busting out with silly crazy moves. Oblivious to all others.Laughing.

…and it was such s golden memory.

…but I really do need you to ‘come back again’

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 25 December, 2011

664 days

Christmas Day …without you again.

But I got my Christmas present from you in that miraculous extra 20 minutes of sleep this morning ….via a vivid dream in which you were quite obviously dead, but still joking with me and holding me and generally chiacking about.

I managed to wake you up and your whole (dead) face just lit up when you saw me.  It was like coaxing someone out of a concussion … but you came out of it and were healthy and whole again within minutes … and ready to run amok.

It felt so good to see you, and have you hold me.

The best Christmas present there could have been.

Thank you my love.

I miss you.

I love you.

…..and I really do hope you are with me, laughing with me, holding me and generally mucking about…..

XA