March 24th, Anna’s Birthday

This was always going to be a difficult day, Anna's 70th Birthday, a milestone that should've carried with is joy, celebration and Anna's anxieties about her grey hairs. However today there aren't many laughs to be had, but feelings of sorrow, remembrance and pain.

We had such plans, not only for Anna's birthday, but the entire year and beyond into our retirement. Dreams of celebrating her life surrounded by family and friends, sharing laughter, stories, and creating new memories with her granddaughter have been shattered. As fate would have it, the day has taken on a different tone.

I’m spending the weekend with my daughter Alex, her Partner Howard, and my almost one month granddaughter Lennie, whom I adore. I’m so proud of Alex, and I’m so thankful to be with her today. Although it’s a day filled with laughter and family I can’t escape the pain and sickness I feel not having Anna here with us, with me. My son is back living in Australia. He marks the day by lighting a candle at St Paul’s Catherral in Melbourne. He lit two, one for Anna and one for my mum Audrey. Who left us, just apart..

By chance, while walking this morning, I find myself passing by the last hotel we stayed at here in Manchester. The nostalgia washes over me like a wave, and I can’t help but feel the weight of the absence, the longing for the laughter that should have filled the air today. The first of many tears today. An inescapable, profound sense of loss and horror.

Each step I take on this journey is a reminder of the bittersweet nature of life, the way it intertwines joy with heartache, and how today, more than ever, I feel the sharp contrast between what was and what lies ahead.