Feeling stuck

The 30th May is fast approaching and I wonder how many will notice that it’s THE anniversary - the day my boy died. It’s been playing on my mind a lot recently. On that date last year, my youngest insisted on attending the Caribbean Carnival. It had been held a week earlier the year before and so Al had been with us. It's one of the last happy memories I have of us as a family together.

Today is a beautiful day. The sun is shining and it’s warmer outside than in. I should be outside bringing in the washing that’s already dry. I should be watering the vegetables and flowers. I should be checking that the strawberries haven’t been allowed to dry out. But I put it off. I don’t know why but at the back of my mind is that we first planted strawberries the year he died – so he never got any – and after that they weren’t tended so the birds ate the flowers before they developed into the fruit. Maybe this is my way of staying close to him. Any link, however tenuous, however trivial, is grasped tightly and held onto. It’s ridiculous to avoid watering plants I have made the effort to cultivate just because that’s what happened when my boy died – and yet that’s what I’m doing.

Today is egg rolling day in the same park where the Caribbean Carnival procession culminated. It’s billed as a family fun day. Last week I agreed to meet my eldest daughter there. But I don’t want to go. I hadn’t realised where it was held – well I had but I didn’t make the connection at the time. I’ll go of course. I’ve already made the arrangements and I don’t want to let her down but the last thing I want is to be surrounded by people playing at happy families.

I have a mountain of jobs to do and have managed only one during the last two weeks of school break. Several of them involve legal paperwork but because it’s related to Al, I find it so hard to do. I’ve spent two weeks with my settee covered in papers that I’m supposed to be sorting through. Instead, I’ve simply shifted them along so I had room to sit down and, instead of focussing, I’ve played Tetris – a complete timewaster. But it numbs the mind. And I know that’s what I’m doing when I play it.

I feel stuck. I don't want to be stuck yet I don't want to let go.

OK!    Enough!  

Onwards and upwards. Get the washing in, get the plants watered, and get washed, dressed, paint on a smile and face the world. It's only for a few hours and then I can be me again.