Letter to Robert ~ You’re My Pride and Joy
I didn’t think I relied on you so much for so many things, baby. Can’t even watch TV without you. It’s not like it takes much concentration – that’s the whole point of TV. I can only read to put myself to (admittedly fractured) sleep, but you’d think telly would be an easy one. Yet I’m watching something and I know that if you were there we’d look at each-other and laugh; always at the same time we’d find the same thing funny. Now I have to do a crossword while watching telly to have a chance of recharging.
And the car. It’s killing me to put it up for sale. You weren’t obsessed about cars or anything but you took such care of it and looked so good driving it! I can’t bear to look at it when you’re not behind the wheel so won’t be able to see it being driven away. I spoke to you about it tonight and am sure you understand it’s too big for me to run now, especially in our circumstances, but I promise you when you want another car (remember our Lincoln Continental? You always fancied them) then you shall have it. And I always keep my promises. The lads here in Fanagans cleaned, waxed and valeted it so the photos on the internet ad would look good, and gave me their advice on various aspects of selling. They also took a picture of themselves which you can see here (they are lovely guys), and I’ve had been lost without their help.
Paulie is home again, took her back on Sunday last. She misses you, I know, and although she’s great company for me in lots of ways, she and you and I are so much a threesome that I find it impossible to go though our daily and nightly routine without seeing you doing your bit: you’d stand and talk to her for a while after I brought her into her night cage, she’d climb up the side so you could scratch her head and tummy, and then you’d cover her for the night. She doesn’t climb up for me, and isn’t quite sure what’s wrong but knows there’s something seriously amiss. However, she’s dealing with it and settling for what she’s got.
Ritamary is away with Bronwyn for Majbritts conferrring ceremony, which was celebrated yesterday. She’s now got her doctorate in marine biology. How proud Ritamary is, and rightly so. But we miss her.
Dropped a full bottle of wine on my toe tonight; completely my own fault. Had put it into the ‘fridge balanced precariously on a tray of filled pasta (which is probably out of date) with – of course – the fattest part of the bottle to the front of the ‘fridge. Forgot about it, opened the door and the goshdammit thing landed on my right big toe. I fell to the floor in agony, cursing and swearing, and Paulie sat on her cage listening to all this and stashing it for future reference. It took about ten minutes for the pain to subside enough for me to extract some of the pain-killing wine from the bottle and you know it never takes me that long normally… Jeez, it hurt, pet. But, you know, it’s the least of my hurts.
Got a guitar strap in Perfect Pitch today – the MD, Gerry Crowe, is a really nice man and did a deal for me on the strap. We chatted for a good while. I’m now practising playing standing up – am a bit of a sloucher when I’m sitting down.
We’ve got some amazing friends and family, though, haven’t we? There’s David in Sligo raising a bunch of money for us; our nephew Edward doing the same, and Ayesha and Luke and Lia are planning ‘Bob’s Bake-off’ or something similar, with cupcakes, biscuits, a Tea Morning (instead of coffee coz you love tea), and tee-shirts, etc.
One of our friends offered to look after Paulie yesterday afternoon while I did a few hours at work, and later we talked over a cup of tea. She has known us for years. She got upset when I was showing her my Tanglewood guitar, said she would swop places with you in a heartbeat if it meant we could be together again. What an amazing thing to say. We both agreed it was the cruellest thing in the world, what happened, and tonight I told you that I wish with all my heart you never went for the surgery. But Bob, we’ll come through this, I swear to you. I will never leave you and I’ll make you as happy as I can no matter what it takes. I try to tell you these things but we don’t have a lot of privacy right now. Don’t like crying in front of you but it’s normally inevitable when I’m trying to tell you how I feel. I wish so many things, and regret very few except some of the times we didn’t have together. We were so lucky, and so happy.
This being our night off I’ve taken a sleeping aid and will soon go to bed to have my only full nights sleep in the week. Even at that I know I’ll wake at some stage looking for you – always do, darling – but thanks to chemicals and several glasses of wine I will fall back asleep at some stage.
I miss you, I love you, I want you to come home, I want to turn back time and make everything alright again. Please don’t forget me. You’re everything to me, my heart and soul, my pride and joy, you’re my sweet little baby. I’m glad I told you all this before you got sick, I’m glad I tried to pamper you and show you how much I love you but it still isn’t enough now. Want to do it all again.