ITS NOT A LIFE STORY
But it goes someway to explaining our situation right now. It has been quite a long, stuffy Bank Holiday Weekend and I want to say hello to the people who have already signed up to follow my posts – thank you! I am used to managing blogs with 50k plus followers so it is nice to start small and stay personal. Lets promise we will always stay personal.
Although it is still the school holidays I am glad to have today to catch up on some writing and get some rest whilst my son is at nursery. Being a naturally quiet person and currently recovering I find two year old boys really ruddy hard work. Most mothers do – even with the advantages of mother son relationships. I love my kids very intently and I want to wrap myself up in them – they make me smile, they make me laugh and they make me get out of bed whether I want to or not. Sometimes they are too much for me but on the whole they save me from myself. In my husband’s words… “You were sick but now you are well again and there is work to do…” Okay that’s Vonnegut but he always quoted Vonnegut. He was a reader – a fine thing to be even if you are nothing else in this life. Unless you have a real love affair with audio or prefer watching instructional video then how else but through reading can a person absorb information, formulate opinion or grow? This is one of my own personal life gripes to those who have no books. It reminds me of a Bill Hicks story so if you want to know, google and read the answer.
It’s sunny here today. It is Spring. We lost Luke in Winter. I want very badly to listen to our song (yep, he gave a song to our relationship), “Seasons Change” by Future Islands. If you read the lyrics or listen to the song you will see why this might be both comforting and harrowing at the same time. He assigned this to our situation only a few days before death and we watched it on Jools Holland over New Year. He left clues all over the place. He made it very obvious. In the first two years of our relationship he attempted suicide twice. He had a mental health crisis worker assigned to him. He had help but didn’t want it.
Now we await the inquest. It has been three months of sheer agony in the slow lane.