The funeral is this afternoon. I’ve been feeling down, for days. But this morning I am well and truly depressed. I wish I wasn’t going to her funeral. I wish I didn’t have to. Instead I wish I could call her up and have a good chat. Or go over for a cuppa. Instead, I am inside, waiting. The blinds are drawn. It is very dark both inside and out. Heavy rains.
I can’t concentrate on my work. Maybe I’ll write a letter to her. We always had a good laugh. Her smile was as wide as Wales. She never remembered to wear her teeth. Hate those teeth she’d say. Once they popped out in the middle of the co-op. We’d gone shopping. The teeth went flying and my elderly friend caught them in mid-flight like an acrobat. Takes practice she’d say. We’d laugh all the more.
The funeral isn’t for another 6 hours. What can I do now.