Did not sleep well last night, but well enough to travel and travel we will today. I have an entire page of directions -- underground, train, ferry, and another train to get to our next destination -- Sandown on the Isle of Wight. The B&B is called The Lawns and from what I've heard Sandown is very touristy but in a British way. It is not a destination for Americans.
I write a long entry on Sunday evening about the wedding and the day after ward. When I went to post it, it disappeared. This happens sometimes when I lose connection with the Internet, but seldom. So, fie and be damned! I will write something about it later. We have a two hour train ride and if Julia can amuse herself and the seats are comfortable, I will write.
This flat in St Albans has been adequate -- a bit musty and I think we are all coughing because of that. Still, it has been comforting to come home to a little flat and not a hotel room.
I can talk to others about David's death, the moment is not difficult to recollect and comment on. The impact is impossible -- I have no words. I have nothing to compare it to, no easy metaphor. There was everything and then there was nothing. I can laugh; I can function; I can make plans. I can do it all for Julia and for Cheshire, and I know that in their own way they will take care of me, but what of me? Friends have been telling me to lean on them. I see at this moment that I don't even know how. I have been leaning on and supporting David for a long time. We learned each other's curves and pointy places. Selfishly, I don't want to work hard at ever finding that again but I am sure that in some way, I will have to. I am fighting that task now. I know that in time I will accept it.
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