The gales which we have had since last Wednesday or Thursday have abated a tiny amount, but look what I found when I went to the ponies on Friday morning: the dead tree has finally blown down. I'm quite sad. I liked its stark figure on that hillside. It was a real landmark and the field looks really bare without it. I liked its colours. All down one side it was just white with some sort of fungal growth. I like how it has fallen on the fence but still kept it stockproof. I suppose I had better get something done about it but there's no urgency. The little ruin already was a ruin. That wasn't the tree's work.
People say when you lose somebody that it's the little things that bring it home. It's true. Hubby really would have wanted to know about the tree and I wish I could tell him. I want to be able to say that there are two new cats in the village and that I have found out the name of the cat from the corner house and that he and I won the church quiz - answers submitted before he died and results issued posthumously. I messed up bigtime last week with something and hubby would know what to say. I'm not sure he could console me but I know he would have a darned good try.
It was his birthday on Saturday and I had a lovely day away on my own, which nearly didn't happen.
Sounds like you are doing OK. Of course you'll keep going to tell him something then remember he's not there. That's only natural.
ReplyDeletePerhaps the tree coming down was him delivering you some extra firewood???
I've been thinking about you when I open my own blog. The poignancy in these small details will remain painful for some while but in time they will help recall good memories of your husband.
ReplyDeleteHelsie: Yes, I hadn't thought of the firewood. He knows I like wood fires.
ReplyDeletejc: Thank you for thinking of me. I think the horrors are now slowing down their endless replay and I think the better memories will come to the fore in time.