“Happy” birthday…

It would have been My Lady’s birthday today. She would have been 43. It’s still so surreal. So much has happened over the last two years or so. The pandemic, wars, war crimes, and climate catastrophes, none of which she knows anything about. I still remember clear as day how it felt queuing up to get into Tesco, hoping there would be some toilet roll left, wondering what she would have made of it all.

The first time I ventured out to the shops after she died was horrific. There was a lady walking across the car park with the exact same hairstyle and even the same colour dye. Moments later someone shouted My Lady’s name across the car park.

My Princeling and I went into Poundland. Seeing My Lady’s shampoo and lots more besides was a constant triggerfest. I start panicking. My Princeling grabs my arms as says “let’s get the hell out of here” bless him. So we rush to the tills and there’s a queue. Of course there is. I pay and at that point I’m in full fight or flight mode and start running for the door. As I cross the threshold, someone grabs my arm and yanks me back. At the same time, my fist clenches and my arm is curling round to belt whoever it is in the face. Just in time I realise that it’s a woman with a baby in her arms. She yanks be back so hard, she bangs the baby’s head on the door frame, screaming at me “Why did you do that!? Why did you throw your drink on my pushchair!?” At this point I’m half tempted to belt her one anyway. I’m not like that, I can assure you but flight or flight is exactly the point. I start shouting at her, saying “What? Where? Fucking show me!” She shows me the push chair and it has white liquid dribbling down it… White liquid… On a push chair… Her mother gives her a dirty look and says “It’s fucking milk, that poor man!” I say “Go fuck yourself!” and storm out. We’d had enough by then and went straight home where I burst into tears for the umpteenth time that day.

Constantly bursting into tears all day, it was one of the worst experiences of my life, apart from the obvious.

I touched base with Precious this afternoon, just to let her know I’m thinking about her. These anniversaries are so shit for all of us.

The world as we/My Lady knew it died around the same time she did. Lockdown was only ten days after the funeral. We were “lucky” to have a proper funeral at all. My neighbour’s sister died two weeks after My Lady and they could only have ten people there.

So it’s the next day. I went to bed early last night. I’ve not had a drink all week. In fact only half a beer since exactly a week ago. I have plenty of beer but I wanted to cut it out as much as possible. The craving is still there but I’m strong enough to resist now. It isn’t a good role model for my Princeling either. Tomorrow however… I will be having a few. It’s nearly Friday and I’ve behaved myself lots…

I hate anniversaries…