Thursday, 22 September 2005

passing the baton

Well, as days go, today is up there with the day I trapped Charlie The Pet Chicken's head under the door as I opened it, and broke his neck.

Luton Airport were great last night. They handled the whole situation very sensitively, got Kate and Vic to a phone, phoned me, passed the phone over to them, and off I went with my Message Of Doom.

They were upset, obviously - they asked me for the bare bones of details and then said that they would phone me this morning.

I've just come back from their house.

B has gone out to another job that he can't get out of, but will be back in a couple of hours. He got in at 2.30 last night and is dealing with the emotional situation by focusing entirely on work.

Kate is focusing her grief on material things, like getting the will to a solicitor and wearing all Aunty Kate's jewellery to the funeral tomorrow so that Kerry The Daughter-In-Law will see it and realise that Aunty Kate would have given it to her if she'd have accepted it. Apparently Aunty Kate tried to give it to her and Kerry put it back in her jewellery box.

Vic cried.

He tried really hard not to and it just came out in big explosions.

I felt awful witnessing it. He didn't really know how. I tried to give him a hug, but he didn't know how to respond to that, either. He was absolutely rigid with tension and just sobbing these great big blowing sobs.

I left about thirty minutes after that and parked the car down the road and cried myself out.

I want B to come home.

I want all this to go away.

I want the funeral to be over, and without any terrible family scenes.

This is not my family, but they have become my family.

We are all hurting, in our different ways.

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