I remember Ali saying to me one day ‘you have a lot of anger’.
‘NO I DON’T’ I jumped down her throat and she just laughed which made me more angry.
I see it now Al 🙂
You were right of course, so wise. Not much older than me but wise beyond it. So many times since your death I’ve wanted to talk, reached for the phone. I can’t visit the cottage. Your boy is ok but I can’t see him there. I wonder how the cats are, must ask him. Wonder how your faithful keyboard companion is doing without you. At the lunch after your funeral, he was sitting in the box Gail’s cake came in licking up the spilt cream. Happy as the proverbial cat that got the cream, I just know he was going to be sick later but no one moved to stop him. At one point, as if directed in a movie and in slow motion, we all looked left in unison and just watched him without speaking. Let him have that little pleasure, his darling human is gone.
What do I do about the anger Ali? It simmers…. I don’t know why it’s there. There’s a rebuke in my head for just about every comment my siblings make. I keep them in but they fester. Why can’t I be happy, get on with them? Or why can’t it all just go away..
I miss your joy and your lightness. Your intoxicating laugh. I miss you friend. What an amazing gift you were in my life.