Well, I’ve made it through the first year without Tony. I don’t think it actually qualifies me for any accolades or money off vouchers but thanks to my besties, four fifty-somethings let loose in Ramsgate made the weekend one to remember for all the right reasons. And now that the jet lag has dissipated, I feel a strange sense of calmness seeping into me. It’s like stepping into the sun at L’Horte (the family home in France) after 12 hours in a car. A sense of peace. I am suddenly just me. Not us, ours, we, they. Just me.
Callum called me into his sacred space (parent speak for bedroom) the other day, he had been transferring old camcorder tapes onto his computer. Video footage from time with friends before we were married to the special day, honeymoon and beyond. He asked me if I wanted to watch any of it, funny because I still find it difficult to watch any of Macgyver but I had a weird need to have a peek. A couple of hours later, Cal and I were laughing and commenting on Tony’s antics, the 90’s fashion and most definitely our son’s youthful parents! There were so many happy memories on those tapes and not once did I feel emotionally distraught, on the contrary I felt like my body had an inner smile. We did good T. Sadly the camcorder was replaced by the mobile phone by the time Cal was born so we don’t have his early years on video. Phones get changed and content lost sadly. I’m making the decision to back up all my phone video content tout suite, memories are irreplaceable. And now, I suppose, it’s time to make new ones. Who knows what the future holds but for the moment, I have to learn a whole new language. It’s called Me.
“I am because my little dog knows me” (Gertrude Stein)
Widow plus woofs 