Missing Happiness

 

Mary in 2018

We miss so much.

In our busy lives.

I wasn’t still until 7 pm last night

That was 10 hours in motion,

From dragging my sorry arse out of under a wonderfully warm duvet 

To porridge for breakfast 

And the 2 hour search for a piece of leather wrapped around three plastic cards.

Today it’s Cate Blanchet and her Radio 4 debut The Fever,

I switched it off sick of her voice, an hour wasted on a so called worthy cause

It’s cold and I find a jumper. 

Paperwork pilled up on the kitchen table awaiting sorting

Tomorrow I say

No good films on in the cinemas,

It’s a children biased weekend

Hetero normal/ family time

At seven pm last night I looked at Mary’s face as I itched that bilateral dimple behind each ear. 

I used my left hand, my thump and forefinger encircling her head deftly

And she closed her eyes, 

And looked blissful

Totally blissful

Roger was asleep next to her, the twins creeping around the room like bandits’ shadows beyond

But for that moment I watched that little dog’s old face

And her vague smile

And I realised that she and I were truly happy