Nobody warned me that once I'd committed to spending the rest of my life with my love, I'd become entirely preoccupied with death. His death, my own and that of anybody else you'd care to mention. I feel like I'm 8 years old again. I blame Disney, mostly. Up had me snotting into my 3d specs while my widowed Nana sat stoically beside me. "I don't know what yiz were all crying about" she told us after the film. "I didn't think it was that sad". She lost her fella after more than 50 years of marriage. 50 years of Aston Villa and pitch and putt. She misses him something fierce, especially this time of year. I wonder, when he asked her to marry him, did she sit down and have a good cry when she realised that some day, he'd die?
Probably not. She didn't have a blog.
Probably not. She didn't have a blog.
