Well? What is there to report? Time loses all track when you are ill or looking after someone who is ill. The day is peppered by phone calls, visits and preparation of drinks, food and anything to make life more bearable for the person who is having to endure their illness and debility.
We whisper alot. It seems the natural thing to do. We are all whispering without even realising we are whispering. Even Abbie whispers because her poor head is so sore.
Sally (Abbie’s wonderful Mum) and I went out for a mad midnight walk tonight in the blizzard. It was like The Ice Storm. Everything was tinkling and crackling. When the snow is blowing I swear you can hear it making soft contact with the ground as it falls. The soft brush of flake upon flake.
I opened the window a tiny way tonight so I could go to sleep hearing the snow fall outside.
Abbie has asked me to secretly arrange for her boyfriend Jim (who is almost unconsolable which is a worry) to get freesia’s, his favourite flowers delivered to his home every Tuesday for at least the next two years after her death. It is so romantic. I hope he likes it. No one knows – just me and her. It reminds me of a Carson McCullers story.