Sunday, 10 February 2013
For February the Twelfth - A 21st. Anniversary
We were young, newly-married,and money was in very short supply. Just once a week we went out, to the local pub, where (occasionally, if we were feeling flush) we ran to chicken and chips.
I remember so clearly you saying one night, as we stood at the bar:"just think - one day one of us is going to die in the other's arms!"
But it didn't happen that way, did it? On the morning you died, when the hospital phoned to tell me to come at once, I had to arrange for someone to care for the children, and then the car wouldn't start and I was late. Too late. So instead of dying in my arms, you died in a hospital ward surrounded by strangers.
I have sat with many people as they died, but I wasn't with you.
I can't even tell you I'm sorry.
(This is a sad time of year for me, and this picture immediately brought this memory to mind. Thanks to Tess at Magpie Tales for the picture)