It's November 5th and as well as being date of the famous Guy Fawkes plot, it's my Mum's anniversary. It's nine years today, feels like yesterday and feels like one hundred years ago.
I've booked the day off work as I usually do. I'm fine, but fine is not necessarily something you want to inflict on work colleagues, especially new work colleagues.
I don't sleep well, as is usual at the moment. I get up early and jog for 20 minutes then I head out for coffee. I'm welcomed by Fay with a giant hug which she rushes around the counter to give me, as soon as I'm in the place, she's on duty today, barista extraordinaire. I'm in the mood for peace, my tranquil time in my usual seat, in my usual window, you know the one, and I chat with Fay too a little in between pesky customers, a very welcome distraction. I've switched to my seasonal Chai tea, it's spicy and hot and I always have it around Christmas, it's steaming and I can cup my hands around it and really get warm, it's early I know, but I just felt like it. After around 30 minutes, Fay brings me a bagged up cranberry and orange muffin to make me feel better. What can you say, but thank you, but I knew that it was love in the shape of a muffin.
I'm home by 10.45 and within minutes, J picks me up, we head out to Ikea then to M&S and pick up a few things, pillow cases, vases, candles, a loaf, a thermal top... for me. I'm really not in the mood but we're both on autopilot and wander around like we have no where else to be, we don't actually. It's another cold but bright and beautiful day, the sun is just gorgeous.
J drops me off around 3pm, I load up her car with my recycling and off she goes. I finally tuck into my orange and cranberry muffin and Fay was right, it worked a little magic, and it was lovely.
I feel so sad today. Not just because of the day, it's a culmination, my heart aches but more for you.
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