I'm sitting here in a dim dining room, with the lights turned low and my lovely man fading away in his gentlemanly fashion. He has stopped eating and pretty much stopped drinking, and is slowly dissolving from this life into the next. I will miss him so much, but I also want to carry on, to make a good thing of the next times, because that would please him. I showed him my plans for the house, and he was pleased.
We have had such a lot of time together; almost half my life, but it will never have been enough.
And I am so glad that we are here, in the quiet together, not in some bleeping, noisy, interfering, brightly-lit, stupid hospital ward, with bustle and ignorance and "visiting times"...
I don't think I have ever done anything as hard as this, or in some ways as easy, because it is needed...
The work is endless, but the parts of it are easy enough, and I don't begrudge a moment. He did so many things for me, endlessly patient with my flights-of-fancy, making things, making time, making me happy.. I hope I did the same for him..
A time to laugh, a time to weep..
I really don't want to cry, but it's hard..
A time to build up, a time to break down
And I went over to the workshop for a cup of tea and a tiny break. Dill and Jo have taken over the front section of the place as a shop - to be called The Yard at Raveningham, and they have taken on my garden, and walled, and painted, and made all fresh ad smart. And this is how it looks today, almost ready for a Grand Opening on Thursday evening, with the Christmas Shopping Thing
It's not mine any more. Yippee!
I took the photos to show John, but he's too far away..
Bless us both, and pray if you do that, good thoughts if not
