Given the choice I'd follow yesterday's slightly upbeat post with an even cheerier one, but ...

As mentioned previously, tomorrow is ED's birthday. That fucking 'On this day...' feature on facebook has been sending me shit all week, reminding me of birthdays past, and what has been lost, and how quickly. Five years ago she was working, driving, mouthing off all over the place about any and every thing. Four years ago she was in a wheelchair but still with it and gobby - we went to see Much ado About Nothing in the West End, and she had strong views on David Tennant's and Catherine Tate's performances, which she expressed eloquently and at length. Three years ago - nothing, no mention of her or her birthday, but two years ago we were fund-raising for the wheelchair van as she could no longer stand up or bear her own weight at all so couldn't get from chair to car. Last year she was in the home and we went to see The Commitments in the West End, which was too much for her, but only just, kind of borderline. This year...

Next year? There's the rub. Next year.

But we'll go and see her tomorrow, hoping like fuck that she'll recognise her son, which she hasn't been doing - he's grown taller and his voice has changed since she stopped laying down new memories - and we'll try and be grateful for her open smile and peaceful face and that she is still with us at all.

Hard to feel grateful but at least I have a home; a family; a computer to write on; friends who support me in this darkest of dark hours; a garden in which to go and have a quick spliff before bed

Love and peas xxx