It's Sunday night and things have been a bit more up and down since the last entry but, let's be honest about it, there was a lot of brave face about all of that. However, to be real, life has not all been bad. I'm not talking about the lack of a Valentine's Day, however.
Good news from Ross. He's been to the local surgery at his parents and the doctor there listened to him and took his story seriously and is doing something about finding out what is going on. So, in a few weeks, we may have the answers to a few questions.
The best thing that has happened to me in all of this has been the kindness of friends, Roland, Gill, my parents, Lowestoft Colin, Brixton Colin and, in some respects most surprisingly my sister, Linda.
Almost as soon as she heard of the current plight, she offered to come round on Saturday to spend some time with me and it was very much in the sense of one sibling caring for and looking after the other in a time of trouble. For many years I've felt that Linda was antipathetic to my lifestyle, even though she may love me. However, our time together was very warm and gentle and cleared the air of many misconceptions we may have been harbouring about each other.
So that has been good. So have the many phone calls I've had with people and the lunch I had with Brixton Colin today.
What has been horrible was the shopping trip to Tesco's first thing. Deliberately
shopping for the week with the knowledge that I had to bear in mind that I was
shopping for one was heart-breaking. After 18 months of shopping for two that
was so symbolic of my current loss and, thinking about it, I've never faced
that issue before. When previous relationships have moved on, I have not been
living with the person concerned. Frankly, I wept by the freezer cabinets.
And I am dreading going into work tomorrow because that will be crap and I will have to come home to an empty house. Even Cyril the cat is perplexed. He keeps wandering around the house sniffing at things looking for Ross.
I know that these are all stages I have to go through before finding some
sense of routine and stability again but, boy, is it tough.