I’ve heard a few women from this town and of a similar age use the same phrase. Do they know that they use it over and over? When we were young it was ‘you know’ after every sentence. It’s sweet. And I am not judging. She was so kind, so gentle with me. You need to cry, she said. It will help you heal. A pretty woman, no not exactly pretty, but fresh, clean and energetic. She got hot working on me. Flushed even. I am fortunate with the ‘healers’ in this town. Her and ‘The Brute’, they are amazing in their way, and modest with it.
I’ve walked and now I am to walk again, up the hill to work. I want to go soon, get it over with before my back packs in. She sent me more pictures of her. So wonderful. She is loving the Christmas present, she writes. Small things, tender things, they all help in these dark days.
He has a new bed. It smells funny but it is simple, clean in its lines. I think he likes it, though we both struggle with change, however welcome. I achieve so little these days. Just getting through. I read and read. Make notes and think about my own writing, knowing that I am not ready. Won’t be for a while. I want to get it right, to know what I want it to be. I have no template for this way of living, it is all so wobbly, so unsure. I try to be kind, to succour him.
Her book was amazing, so angry, so full of hurt but deeply compassionate too. She writes of sitting at her desk and not writing. I need to get to a stage when I have to do it. To get it out. Not yet. Not yet.