A Little Pick-Me-Up

I was feeling more than a bit melancholy this morning when I walked the dog, despite the sunshine and the greening trees. The second anniversary of Lisa’s death is fast approaching, and I just couldn’t manage to ignore it any more. It was exactly the sort of morning on which she would have been up at 6 and off with the dog to walk along with river; exactly the sort of day she’d spend emailing me about plans for the garden; exactly the time of year she’d be downloading past performances and calculating imaginary Derby bets, and not having her here to do any of that is still shockingly painful at times. I had Justin Hayward’s Forever Autumn running through my head - “you always loved this time of year” - and there was a single crow, one for sorrow, staring at me from the fence by the ballfield.

And then, wonderfully, one of the neighbors pulled up alongside us, and rolled down the car window to say hi and to share a silly, stupid joke. I giggled, we chatted, and I felt - lightened. Grieving still, yes, but it wasn’t the burden it had been. It’s still a Lisa sort of day, and spring days like this always will be, but I can see a time when that will be more joy than sorrow. And that is a gift worth celebrating.