Traversing the bumps...
Last month I visited my in-laws for the first time since B’s death. It took a while to arrange due to concerns over covid, me getting around to it and having to arrange flights (believe it or not, I had never flown on my own prior to this), and, if I’m honest, me being in a place where I could face visiting on my own. Not that I didn’t want to see them, just that I knew it would be hard visiting without B. The last of those big firsts! And, of course, it was lovely to see everybody; to meet my great-niece for the first time and to see my great-nephew growing up; to catch up with everyone and chat about B; to look at and mull over family photographs; and to go out for a lovely meal together. And I was grateful to the friend that made my journey a whole lot easier by meeting me from the airport, and then taking me back there a few days later. But, of course, for me, the whole trip was about B and it was hard being there without him as it just reinforced his absence. How could it not? Say...