May be its time to write a little of the time my first husband died.
We had separated a few years prior to his illness.
But it was at this time of year (May), six years ago, he passed away during complications to transplant his heart.
When spring is high in the air I do remember him and what we shared together: our four beautiful children.
And I remember my oldest sons.
I miss them every single day.
They left in the summer of that same year unable to come to terms with his loss and my decision to make a new life with my now husband who they could neither forgive for not being their father nor allow into their lives. I carried on with life and let them go to find their own lives but have seldom seen either son since then. And it hurts more each day.
Days when married life is tough I wonder if I made the right decision? Did I even make a decision – did I simply sit back and allow it to happen – did exhaustion make me lazy – did the first man to show me kindness win m hand above contact with my boys? And I ache in my soul for contact.
I miss their charm, good looks and their sense of humour.
I ache for the children they were and the young men they have become without me and the pain never goes away.
I miss the laughter we shared: the house full of movement, of certainty, of life.
Do you remember? Our big kitchen table under the sky lights covered in a light blue checked oilskin cloth surrounded by mismatched chairs each one borrowed or given by a friend to furnish the house during those long difficult days when we had separated.
The meals we ate together, the light from the windows to the side, the curtains hung by my own long gone dear mother framing the surrounds, the memories.
The house on Nelson Road where I shared those years on my own with the children are the most precious to me.
They mean the most to me. My three sons and my daughter. All of us.
Do you remember? I furnished the front room with a birch wood sofa from ikea, long and low and robust. We made the sofa together when it arrived flat packed and how we delighted in the thick padded black cushions that made up the seating. We knocked each other about with those cushions, laughing and flung lime green throws over the back on the couch and lime green cushions on the seats to match.
We were so proud of them.
The money came from what was left after my divorce settlement.
There was enough for a second hand car and that couch although I know at the time my mother-in-law had thought I would buy a new property to house you all, I struggled to set down new roots.
But that house held us all.
From the attic bedrooms and the tiny shower between the to the family bathroom and two large bedrooms on the floor below, the lounge and kitchen-diner, I could not have found a more perfect home for us all.
For all the unhappiness that followed I found a kind of peace there. For all the pockets of sadness and grief, it was a happy home for a while at least.
And on days like these, when the spring is high in the air and the blossom shines in the trees on these days, I remember it all.
Come visit soon.