The last few weeks have been quite difficult.

In Didion’s book ‘a year of magical thinking’ (well it lasts for longer than a year … like forever) she writes about the vortex, I call it being bushwhacked.

One is ….

Attacked for no apparent reason, as the sadness arises — mainly due to recollections that appear — as if from nowhere.

There’s also a regular hidden sadness that surfaces as intolerant anger.

Sorry everyone.

I’m dealing with CBB — can’t be bothered — but it’ll get sorted.

Here’s the letter I wrote to MAnjula after she slipped through my fingers.

I stumbled across it today. It was as I began my journey through the tunnel of love paddling the thick grief gravy and I remembered….

Manjula the ever-smiler, radiated love like the rays of a sun.

When I can —- I recall the wonderful light she brought into my life — puts the awful loss and memories of her slipping away, into the shade.

So of course, I’m very fortunate.