Tim is home

He’s home for now and then I’ll take him home to Earsham. It’s been a day when I’ve had to keep a rein on emotions.

We have done a lot of sorting out. I’m going to take a carful home and deal with it all there. Tim’s brother and sister-in-law have got some things too, but much fewer, thy’ve downsized and haven’t the room. They’ll help me load the car in the morning and then leave for Devon. Tim and I will have some time to ourselves and I’ll talk to him and he won’t reply because … well, rein in the emotionalism.

One of his friends – the son of his dearest friends, in fact – asked if he might have Tim’s copy of Lord of the Rings as a memento. I’ve been looking for it and drawn a blank. But Tim’s brother found a photo today, of a book that’s been read so many times that it’s fallen apart. Tim lit a candle next to it and took a picture and kept it. I’ll send that photo to Reuben, the book is no more.

So much stuff with memories and stories within them. I have Tim’s ashes, his last remains, but I still don’t believe he’s gone. I’m sorting out his possessions but it feels an intrusion and I am compelled to treat everything sensitively, though also acknowledge that sentiment can only go so far. It’s awfully difficult.

I woke in the night and reached out for Eloise cat, it took a minute or two to remember that she’s at home in Norfolk and I’m not. I feel unsettled.

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