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A Year of Days


Today is a day I didn't want to come round. It's been a year now and in many ways little has changed. There are still days when I think 'I must tell Shirley about this book' or 'I'll just email this to her.' And then I remember. Shirley was so involved in everything I did, but nowhere more so than in my writing and this is the photo that sits on my desk. I still ask her questions, I still talk ideas through with her, I still wonder what she'd think of something I've written.


I've not been able to write this week. All I've thought about is just getting through the week. Getting to the other side of today. I'm actually writing this on Tuesday because I don't think I'll be able to face doing it on the day, but I want to mark it in some way. Writing got me through the first few months - I've said before that the first draft of my MA dissertation was incredibly bleak - but it's reading that's getting me through this week. I plan to spend Friday reading The Dark Is Rising, which is the book, perhaps more than any other, that I associate with Shirley.


One of the nicest comments I got when I posted about passing my MA was that my sister would have been incredibly proud of me. I believe she would have been and I'd like to think that somewhere, she is.


Lily Lawson, a friend and fellow writer, recently posted a poem she'd written about loss and in its simplicity, it really spoke to how I've been feeling.


A year of days. Christmas Day. Boxing Day. New Years Eve. New Years Day. My Birthday. Mother's Day. Your Wedding Anniversary. Your Birthday. Father's Day. Dad's Birthday. Today. A year of days without you.


(Original post here.) I usually try to keep my blog posts about writing, but in this case, I can't. If this was fiction I could change the ending, I could write away the grief, I could bring back a popular character from the dead (if it's good enough for Arthur Conan Doyle, why not?) but the bottom line is - I miss her too much to write about her. I miss her voice, I miss her laugh, I miss teasing her, I miss her unbounded love, I miss her support. I miss my silly sister.




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