The weather is back to normal. Simply horrid. I have been out to stretch my legs still lamenting the absence of my dog Crispin who would venture out no matter what the weather and expect me to go with him.
The aftermath of any death is always hard, especially when it was unexpected.
Subconsciously at first you start to put together a life , to try to make sense of things that have happened.
Talking to people certainly helps but they have to be those who loved the lost ones too.
I still talk about David when I am with the people who knew us both.
We can laugh together and recall daft things like the time David set off to retrieve a lost dingy found floating some way a way.
He brought it home tied on to a borrowed boat and was very pleased with himself.
The next morning it had gone again. He'd forgotten to tie it up to the landing post.
It was very funny when he realised what he'd done and we all laughed with him not at him.
Lives are full of small stories like that and just now lots of them are coming back for my son.
One day I'll be able to recall them without tears.
But not just yet.
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