Aching Bones

It's been a bone-crushingly hard day. I get anxious, sometimes, that people are looking for signs of improvement. There are none, it is as hard as ever, and it goes without saying that I miss him not one drop less than I ever did. Perhaps even more.

I hung photos of Kent on the little girl's wall today, above her cot. So that she knows what her father looked like. 

Foreigner

I realised recently that I am a foreigner in my own country. I entered the land of marriage a long time ago, and I intended to be there for, you know, life. Until I was really old, that's supposed to mean. And now here I am, booted out to the border. There's not really anywhere else to go. My own country is all I know, and I don't want to be anywhere else. I'm worried I'm going to forget the language and those around me will soon stop recognising me as one of their own.