I woke up this morning with a dullness in my heart that I normally don't have in the morning.
On my mornings allocated to sleep in I resemble a sloth blissfully unaware of life in a cocoon, but on a normal morning I wake up with a bit of a bounce. I start my day with a bit of shower time karaoke. I dance around the bedroom as I get dressed for the day. I have a great time. ( Jeez, as I write this I suddenly appreciate Stuart's morning patience a little bit more! Ha!) Anyway, the point being, despite a very early bed time last night I woke up a wee bit deflated.
Then I remembered that my old nemesis November has returned.
I did a quick calculation. Marguerite would be 32 next week.
32! Being 32 was one of my favourite times.
Another quick calculation, Marguerite will be gone 15 years this month. 15 years. 2 more years and she will be gone as long as she was with us.
Every November is a little bit easier than the last. Of course it is. Time is a wonderful healer.
But every cal…
I have started this blog post four times now.
I think that is a new record for my procrastination.
I didn't do a New Year blog, and my previous versions of this were a look back on 2019.
I'll be very honest, I don't want to look back on 2019.
I want to put it in a box, and seal it away forever.
There were some fabulous moments. Of course there were! I got engaged to the most wonderful man I have ever known. I witnessed the weddings of some of my best friends. Babies were born. There was an abundance of soft play, cuddles and karaoke.
For me, 2019 will mostly remind me of being ill. It was a huge part of the year. The worry consumed me for the majority of the latter half. I now know more about hypertension, blood pressure, kidney function and kidney failure than I ever thought necessary.
It sucks being ill. It sucks knowing that you have an illness that will never go away. It doesn't feel fair. If I am very honest with myself I went into a little bit of a pity pit for a w…
On this day, 14 years ago, the world lost a little bit of its magic, when at 11pm, my little sister took her final breath and life changed as we all knew it. She was only 17 years old. 17 years and 19 days to be exact. As I sat here today reading all the lovely messages written about her, my heart soared with pride in the fact that in her short time with us, she managed to have such a big impact on so many people. Marguerite Mary O'Dwyer, an ambassador for mischief, mockery and for having a marvellous time. I miss her so much.
It is funny how every year there is something different that I focus on for the anniversary. I never choose my train of thought, I think the year since the last anniversary chooses it for me. Last night, I got fairly plastered on wine and when my other half went to his bed, I sat and sang along to every sad song I could think of. I had a wee chat with Mags before I went to bed and woke up this morning well rested and ready to seize the day. I got quite sad a…