Thinning Fog

This week I've been to the dentist and the hairdresser, had a filling and a haircut. I also met my poet friend, A, this morning to do some writing together, first time in a long time, since my Mum died in fact. She's having a dreadful time with work stress, and took time out from crying and worrying to sit with me, drink tea and write. We used Mark Doty and Anne Carson as inspiration.

Also, I went to meet other people bereaved by suicide on Wednesday, a small warm group, a space to talk offered as part of a festival of death and dying in our neighbouring town, called Pushing Up Daisies. A marvellous encounter, and the meeting of a need I didn't even know I had. I hope we may meet again.

It's been a time of travelling in fog. Some dim shapes are beginning to emerge, a slight inkling of a future. Too soon to make them out distinctly, but the suicide group and the writing meeting have helped me begin to see them.

This weekend my brother and my sister will be here. First time we'll all have been together since my Mum's funeral.