The little things

It's always the little things that remind you of a person. This week it was Chinese ready meals in Waitrose. I started to think about how Amy and I had discussed the coming of our Waitrose, the availability of yummy food on the way home and how I could have got Chinese meals and taken them to Amy's house (Waitrose is on the way) on the bus and we could have had fun sharing out the goodies, laughing and trying not to get yarn muddled up in the food.

So now I feel sad that we aren't going to do that. Things have reached a point (it will be 3 months this Friday since she died) when I think I'm expected to be ok and to have "got over it". Much of the time I'm fine, surprisingly fine, sometimes I worry too fine, that I never really cared enough or that I'm callous. But other times there is a tremendous feeling of loss and I realise that instead of talking to my best friend I'm talking to a computer. I also worry that I will forget Amy, I learnt so much from her. Even now at life group (church small group for those of you who don't speak Anglican) it feels strange that she's not there, that she'll never be there again.

All this gets to me most when I'm most vulnerable, generally when I'm alone and feeling lonely. I am trying not to mope, not to allow myself to wallow in the poor-mes, but it's hard, as I'm human and also because I'm feeling physically worse and worse, able to do less and less. It's not my imagination, I'm not being neurotic. I don't know where I'm going, what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm trying to cling onto Him, there doesn't feel like there's anything else left that makes any sense.