This morning I feel as if I’ve been run over by a truck. My head is foggy and my body aches.
As far as my body aching though, it is my own fault. Because that is what happens when you don’t exercise for months on end. What am I saying exercise? Since Andrew died, apart from the three, yes, three yoga classes, and about six walks with my friend Terry (and that is only because she literally dragged me out of the house, even when it was raining once) I spent eight months at home.
And a great part of those eight months, I spent sitting up in bed writing, staring out of the window, crying until the skin around my eyes and nose was swollen and raw like blisters. So, given all that, I suppose that it is no surprise that I am badly out of shape.
And, Gosh, I would love a massage right now, I am sure it would help.
I am foggy because last night I couldn’t sleep, even with my normal medications and the sleeping pill that I took at two o’clock in the morning, I slept fitfully and was awake again at five.
What’s on my mind? Lots!
This time last year I launched this blog, at the time a journal of my exploration of the workings of the Law of Attraction.
Hugh was in England visiting his mother, and I had been working all day setting up the blog. Let me stop here for a moment, to thank my daughter’s friend and one of my many adopted children, Frank, for holding my hand through the process. When the blog was up I spent hours sending the link to everyone on my mailing list and setting up a twitter account, as directed by Frank.
With all this work and my writing to keep up with, I thought that going out for dinner would be a nice treat, so I called Andrew.
“Tiggy? I was thinking of going to the Outback for dinner tonight with Robert, do you want to join us? I’ll drive you back to the City afterwards if that helps.”
“Hm,” he said. “Sounds nice. Let me see how far I get with my work for tomorrow’s class and I’ll give you a call in a while.”
A little later he called to say that he was making his way to Grand Central and would arrive on the 4:06.
“Great darling. I’ll be there, can’t wait to see you.”
I was driving along Broadway, on my way to the station, when my cell phone rang, it was Tigger, he had arrived.
“I am on Broadway Tigs, I’ll be there in two minutes.”
In the town where I live, our Main Street is on a hill that runs all the way down to the station and the Hudson River. Once half way down Main Street, I could see him standing outside the station, his Australian DRIZA-BONE oil-skin hat on his head, a big smile on his gorgeous face, just seeing him made me feel all warm and happy inside.
“Hello little Mumsy,” he said, getting into the car. “Thanks for picking me up,” always so polite. Of course there’d be no question that I’d pick him up from the station. Still, Andrew’s, indeed all my children’s manners bring great joy and pride to my heart.
Once we got home, Andrew called his friend Eric who happened to be home from university that week-end and they spent a couple of happy hours playing Warcraft together at my house.
“Nice to see you Mrs. Williamson-Noble,” Eric said to me on his way out, I looked up from my laptop and smiled at him. “Bye Andrew, see you and the rest of the gang at Thanksgiving,” he said and left, Andrew closed the door behind him.
That was the last time that Eric and Andrew saw each other.
The next time Eric saw Andrew again, it was at the funeral parlour where he and all of Andrew’s friends came to bid their tearful farewell to their fallen friend, my beautiful Andrew, lying dead in his casket.
I am sorry, I can’t finish this post right now. I can’t write anymore…. I am going for a walk, maybe the fresh air will hep.