So Christmas came and Christmas went. It is strange that it all felt so normal yet so unreal to not have Colin with us as we ate, drank and made merry with the questions from the new Pointless boardgame. However, it almost felt like it marked a change in my perception of life. The last 10 months have been an unreality where I have suspended the actuality of Colin no longer being here. I know he is not but him not being there on Christmas Day really brought it home to me that he isn’t coming back. I don’t know where my head thinks he has been hanging out for the majority of the year but I realise that day to day I have been kidding myself that this situation is not permanent. And it is and however sad that makes me feel I have to accept it and move on. I have to pat myself on the back for getting through what really has been the worst year yet of my life (Queenie your annus horribilus in 1992 didn’t have a patch on my 2012).
In this weird limbo between Christmas and New Year the media is going Review of the Year crazy. It is driving me slightly nuts. Between the jubilee and the Olympics, it seems the whole of the UK had a rather fabulous time in 2012. I didn’t so I am going to do my alternative Review of the Year so I can try to start believing that perhaps 2013 could be a slight improvement.
New Year’s Day 2012 – Got Mastitis. Colin and I sat in a Doctor’s waiting room in Clapham to be given the drugs I needed to stop the hideous flu-like symptoms rampaging through my body. By 9am we were sitting outside a chemist waiting for it to open and Colin bought us crisps (he always bought us crisps for the car) to keep my strength up. He read the document the nurse gave me for husbands who really don’t understand Mastitis. He spent the rest of the morning trying to be understanding but by 5pm had a meltdown because Evie had tested his patience somewhat in a supermarket and my tomato soup had boiled over. He had a terrible day, really, while I lay in bed sure that the Mastitis had developed into Meningitis, drama queen that I am.
January 2012 – Body wrecked with childbirth. Husband now mortified by the lotions and potions I send him on quests to retrieve from any chemist he passed on his way home from work. Eventually got told by husband that he was bored of me being ill! I screamed I wasn’t ill I was pregnant and had subsequently given birth, if he hadn’t noticed. I told him I was bored of him not understanding how hard it all was to have two babies under two and a husband that didn’t pick up his own pants or cleaned the sink of bristle of a morning. Argued to the point that I hissed like a beast from the corner of the kitchen floor while he bent our only large serving utensil and told me I was insane with hormones.
February 2012 – Valentine’s Day we were both determined to make up for January’s hideousness. So cue a Waitrose Meal Deal for Two, champagne and chocolates, a silver heart charm from Colin and I stayed up past nine for the first time in seven weeks. Lovely.
24 February – We go for our first dinner out. We laugh, we reminisce, we make plans for our future and we just have the most lovely, lovely time. Not one nag from me and not one wind up from him. We hold hands and we talk about our girls and the holidays we will have with them, where we have been that we would like them to see (I am keeping this list in my head so I can do those holidays with his girls).
25 February – Colin dies.
26 February onwards – I keep on keeping on by the skin of my teeth.