Sunday.

I have a feeling I won't sleep very well tonight.  I watched the finale of Les Miserables.  I have not read the book by Victor Hugo, so don't know how faithful this interpretation is, but anyhow, I really enjoyed it, especially Dominic West's superb performance.  Such a sad ending though and of course it reminded me of my own recent loss.

Some days I feel fine and cope very well. Other times I  miss Paul so much, I just want to be on my own to cry, on and off. Today is one of those days.

It will be my 77th birthday on Thursday and we would probably have celebrated it, by having a meal in Paul's Cafe.  How I miss those ordinary, simple little pleasures.

I still can't help thinking that if that nurse practitioner had done an ECG, she may have picked up an irregular heartbeat and he might have got treatment sooner. It's no good beating myself up over it though, as nothing will bring him back. I can't rewind the last few months - I wish I could.

To use some well worn platitudes, I will have to learn to live with it and hope time will heal my broken heart.

I downloaded an app and got some of my photos printed. I have framed one of our selfies, taken on holiday, plus the last ever photo of Paul that I took, with him sitting on a bench on the village green in August last year.  He looked so relaxed and well in that snap - hard to believe then, he only had months to live.

I miss you my love xx