Loneliness

 From time to time loneliness will feature in Going Gently. It invades one’s life like the process of osmosis dampens a piece of blotting paper, and brings you up short when it is least expected. 

It is insidious, and evil sometimes. Other moments it’s a minor irritation that can be shrugged off by a radio programme, a knock on the lane window or the ping of a phone message.

I hate Sunday afternoons on night duty. You wake up to a silent cottage around five. The dogs have already been collected that morning by Trendy Carol’s husband, and the cats are mute. 

Asleep on the sofa, where the dogs are not present. 

It’s that first buzzing of silence when awake, which is the worst thing

It’s louder than any noise known to man

It’s a lonely sound. 

I shower, and brush my teeth loudly. 

Today I make eggs on toast and coffee and Pick of the Week and The Archers will be on Radio 4 soon. 

I reclaim my isolation slowly. I look at the thirty birthday cards still standing on the kitchen windowsill . A message. From Chic Eleanor requesting my company at the Theatre on Thursday, is welcome. And there are more notes waiting to be read from Nu and The German and more Sheffield old friends.

I collect the dogs, it’s the village dog show on Saturday and Roger needs a haircut…. , so I’m out on Wednesday ( cinema) Theatre on Thursday and show on Saturday with long days at the hospice Friday and Sunday

The week is full and Mr Loneliness is thwarted another week