Dear friends and other interesting creatures,
I know I’ve been writing about Tim more than usual. I will not for your sake curb my emotions, therefore I will not apologise for my truth. That is not #Wenchytude
When my Tim died I knew I would miss many things about him. Besides his windswept and interesting self, off course.
Who else would quote Shirley Valentine at great length with me, sing Sinatra, Rodriguez and be the only man I ever baked an apple pie for?
Tim and I did not always agree, but he listened. He never tried to convert me to his way of thinking. He tried to understand and would challenge us both. Hell, we could both be wrong. Imagine!
He kicked my ass when I needed it, he was moody, contemplative and sometimes down right depressive.
We would talk and never run out of words or topics. In my element…. somebody who wanted to discuss meaning, sex, psychology, depth, behaviour, how we could change the world… as much as I do!
I had not seen him for a few weeks after Lee was born. We were in the foyer. We were on opposite sides if the turnstiles. I can still see his face light up as he saw me. His long blonde hair flying as he jumped over, I started laughing.
He hugged me as if I was all that mattered in all the world. That hug could have lasted 5 minutes or 5 seconds but it was the most happy I had felt during a time “happy” was not a common feeling in my life. Imagine someone expressing so much delight at the sight of you.
It is only now, 18 years later, I realise that you made me feel like *I* was a celebration of life. Ain’t no sunshine, Wenchy gone. #smile How you would have loved that line!
There are times I’m aware of the relationship I no longer have. My loss. My pain. My longing…. but then there are times my heart aches for those who have never had a relationship such as ours. How sad. Tragic.
You are missing from me.
So long, and thanks for the fish.