Friday July2nd.
First let me say that I love my husband. Truly, madly, deeply. I have since about five minutes after I met him. Apart from the fact that he has GREAT hair and a wondrous child-like sense of awe about the world, he's the wittiest man I know and drop dead cute for any age. He has great taste in music, plays awesome drums, understands art and is wonderfully romantic.
However he can also be a selfish bastard!!! Well nobody's perfect!
Tony had planned to go up to London today to meet up with all his old crowd and swap nostalgic stories in the pub. This trip is as much about him saying goodbye to 45 years of his life - and family and friends - as it is about seeing places we haven't seen before.
I felt terribly sorry when he discovered friends have died...or are old and infirm...or have lost touch and he wasn't able to meet up with them. BUT.......
He's still going. This would not be a problem except I am as sick as a dog! Not sure if it's flu or hayfever but I have lost my voice...my nose is streaming horrible gunk and my head is pounding. I want to stay in bed...I want him to nurse me and pat my head and say there,there ( told you I was sick as a dog). What I don't want is to be left alone with his 80 year old sister in a house with no cooling system on a summer day worthy of Australia. But left alone I am. I sleep, I cry, I convince myself something has happened to Oliver or one of the other cats. (It hasn't) and I feel sorry for myself.
Part of me understands this is a pilgrimage and something he must do alone. He is - unbelievably - 73years old and doesn't expect to come back again. A city boy through and through, London is part of his heart and soul - and integral to what I love about him. The other part of me couldn't give two monkies chunkies!!!!
He calls from PIccadilly Circus. The Regent Palace hotel is being demolished! Unthinkable! It's been a landmark for eons...how can it just be a pile of rubble and scaffolding? It's Friday afternoon and he says there are queues to get into the pubs! Depressing.
He arrives home quiet and sad, and I sense his yearning for Paradise Lost. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be - and maybe it never was.
Saturday.
Well...the Sat nav is working and I am dosed up on flu and hayfever medication....kill the bastard lurgie one way or the other!
We watch The Ladies Final and go to a very good Italian Restaurant called Mama Mia in Hook...the next village. My boy/man is attentive and lovely and I soooo wish we weren't in twin beds. We are used to falling asleep in each other's arms....bridging hands held across a river of carpet just doesn't cut it!
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