Yesterday I was given a small heart shaped container, that John had painted in craft class. I oo-ed and ahh-ed and said how clever he was, and it was so pretty, and was that a flower, and was the white on the blue a cloud in the sky?
John gave me a withering look, turned away, turned back, shook his head and said "I gave my wife a heart stone, once". About 45 years ago, John found a stone on the beach which was heart shaped, which I still have. I was thrilled he remembered that, but sad that he thought he'd given it to someone else.
I paid a fortune a few weeks ago to have the whole of my front made into a dropped kerb. I had a "run-up" each side, but folk continued to park in the middle, which was fine, but park so that they protruded over the side where my car was, making it mega difficult to reverse out.
Today the builders arrived to fill in what used to be a flower bed, so that I can drive over this. They phoned yesterday to say they'd be here at 9, and they arrived on the dot. I thought that if John had been here, we would have laughed over this, and said how rare this was, and John would have made their tea, and engaged them in easy chat, talking about the football, whilst having a grumble at how much this cost.
Then, daft as we were, we would have "celebrated" by driving easily off the front, and visiting a garden centre, where we would have bought something in a pot for the front, and had coffee and cake. And then laughed as we drove easily back, onto our front. Nothing mega-exciting, but the sort of things couples do.
I thought that when I go to see him later, I must tell him about this, and then I realised I mustn't. I daren't talk about anything to do with home, in case it reminds him of his old life. I can't mention the cost, and say well that's what money's for, to make our lives easier. It's no good asking if he remembers the builder. And I sat down and sobbed and sobbed.
I must pull myself together, and try to think what I should talk about when I visit John.
John gave me a withering look, turned away, turned back, shook his head and said "I gave my wife a heart stone, once". About 45 years ago, John found a stone on the beach which was heart shaped, which I still have. I was thrilled he remembered that, but sad that he thought he'd given it to someone else.
I paid a fortune a few weeks ago to have the whole of my front made into a dropped kerb. I had a "run-up" each side, but folk continued to park in the middle, which was fine, but park so that they protruded over the side where my car was, making it mega difficult to reverse out.
Today the builders arrived to fill in what used to be a flower bed, so that I can drive over this. They phoned yesterday to say they'd be here at 9, and they arrived on the dot. I thought that if John had been here, we would have laughed over this, and said how rare this was, and John would have made their tea, and engaged them in easy chat, talking about the football, whilst having a grumble at how much this cost.
Then, daft as we were, we would have "celebrated" by driving easily off the front, and visiting a garden centre, where we would have bought something in a pot for the front, and had coffee and cake. And then laughed as we drove easily back, onto our front. Nothing mega-exciting, but the sort of things couples do.
I thought that when I go to see him later, I must tell him about this, and then I realised I mustn't. I daren't talk about anything to do with home, in case it reminds him of his old life. I can't mention the cost, and say well that's what money's for, to make our lives easier. It's no good asking if he remembers the builder. And I sat down and sobbed and sobbed.
I must pull myself together, and try to think what I should talk about when I visit John.
