Tuesday, 28 July 2009

Sharing air and the bed

Bit of this
Black cat has her jaw laid against my collar bone and is puffing purry breaths in my ear, whippet gasps searching for air under the duvet in his rightful place between me and man about the house who is gently snoring, my effort in the symphony of airy sound sometimes syncs with black cat and sometimes with man about the house. What a wonderful way to start the day.

All that breathing reminded me of Andrew who shared our bed until he died, I used to listen for hours to his breath. It often was the first indicator of an imminent crisis. Funny really it wasn't his breath I swore I heard in the months that followed but his foot steps. That and his voice.

His voice is a soft mutter these days usually telling me to pull my finger out. Sometimes I listen sometimes I don't. Today I listened and did loads of house work and feel very virtuous.
Bit of that

1 comment:

  1. Memories. I've never had such a terrible bereavement but sometimes even sad memories are good in that at least it's a glimpse back & it means you never lose someone totally.