Heading back into summer feels weird. I feel weird. I didn’t anticipate how the start of British Summer Time or spring would make me feel. The usual ‘shit, this is still my reality’ punch to the stomach feeling, but also a glimmer of something else, hope maybe?
Henry was born towards the end of British Summer Time. It was a day of cloud, sunshine and rain showers, it had just started to feel autumnal, cool but not yet cold. Soon after he died the weather turned properly wintry and I’ve spent the cold, dark months since existing inside a safe bubble consisting of my husband, our home (literally my sanctuary), frequent stays in Suffolk with family, the odd get together with friends, lots of Netflix and switching off from any normal routine or responsibility. Now we’re back in British Summer Time again, a whole winter of grief survived.
Most mornings I wake up and brace myself for the day ahead, the quiet hours first and last thing are the hardest, and Sunday morning was no different. This year winter seems to have turned into spring in a single day and just like that a whole season separates me from Henry. The clock change, Sunday’s beautiful spring-like weather and the lengthening evenings are yet another reminder that while my life has pretty much stood still for the past five and half months, the world goes on.
Today Martin has returned to work after an extended leave of absence. With his return to work part of our old life will return, I don’t know what this will look like because nothing is the same as it was. I only hope he is okay. This time we’ve had together has been important, I don’t yet have the words to explain it, but I am beyond grateful that we’ve had it.
We spent our last weekend before Martin’s return to work in the Brecon Beacons cut off from the world for just a little longer, no WiFi, phone signal or all that many people. We walked with Henry’s photo and talked about him, us and our future. This weekend coinciding with the change in season almost seems symbolic, the start of us coming back to life. Things are still shit and really hard but there’s also that glimmer of something else just starting to shine through the cracks.