These Widow's Shoes


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The only thing I get sad about is remembering how Ben suffered last year. My love…he went through such pain, and fear, and uncertainty, and frustration, and humiliation, and just, shit…

Those memories make me cry.

Last year I didn’t cry about it – well, sometimes, with Ben, we had a cry together. But it wasn’t the same as this reflective sadness borne out of memory. Then it was raw, ragged, immediate, borne out of togetherness in that moment.

Otherwise crying to myself or with friends was rare. Everything was too practical, visceral and everyday for tears.

Poor Benj. It would be lovely if he could see us now – Sas and I, and his family and friends, all well and surviving and looking after each other – and take pleasure in it. I don’t have any reason to believe that, but I wish it. After all the suffering of that last year he certainly deserved(s) it.

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