Missing You

Things you miss. Let me count the ways… Of course, there are simply dozens of things that you can’t get your head around not having but there’s always a few that are BIG, so big you wonder if you can ever move on from them. I doubt you can.

Mine was the loss of humour and laughter. I certainly miss the fact that Gail made me laugh constantly. She was always very funny, often unintentionally, which made it even funnier – If I had a pound for every time she’d say ‘What are you laughing at?” I’d not have to worry about working again – but I also missed being able to make her laugh. Something I knew I could do easily. Beyond that though is that point you reach when you know someone so intimately that humour moves into something else; that raised eyebrow or look that says ‘Oh not THAT one again’. Something which then becomes part of the warp and weave of your day. “Ignore him, he’s been saying that for years. It was funny at first…” Of course, in a sort of circular way, THAT then becomes funny.

This isn’t a tap though. You can’t turn it off. Your loved one isn’t here anymore but you are. You can’t just stop saying the things you’re used to. You’re then faced with that blank wall of someone who just doesn’t understand when – or even if – you’re being funny .

I still can’t get used to the fact I have no-one to share my irrepressible humour with. Yesterday, my mother asked what I would be ‘doing tonight’, I think she forgets I have no-one to do anything with, so I just said snippily “Shania Twain is coming round for the evening and she’s going to re-enact the ‘Feel Like A Woman’ video for me”. A year ago that would have bought a snort of derision, a raised eyebrow or one of those looks from a certain someone. Mother said nothing.

Mum’s too ill to go out, so I got some dinner in and we watched TV but all afternoon she kept asking what time I would be going. I thought it was a bit odd. About 7pm she looked at me with an exasperated look and said “Look! If you don’t go soon you’ll miss ..what’s her name..Shania? .. and then you’ll be sorry”.

Too bloody right, Mother. Seems I did and I am.

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