Last night, a woman died. A lovely, lovely woman who has two young children at primary school with my children.
The playground after school was a sombre affair. Standing, waiting, I watched as mother after mother approached a friend and gently touched her arm. I watched as the mother smiled a hello then within a minute her hand would be snatched to her open mouth and her eyes filled with tears. And all of us, all of us then wrapped our children up in our arms and buried our wet cheeks into their shoulders so that they would see our smiles by the time we put them down.
The closest friends wept openly or wore sunglasses but the rest of us who were passing acquaintances, or like me, had had a few lively nights out hid our emotions, not wishing to seem like hangers on. It leaves all of us terrified by our mortality, wondering how on earth our husbands would get our children to school, or brush their hair. Do any of them know what time swimming lessons are? Or ballet? Would they eat fruit again?
Dan and I hugged for an hour when we got home. However bad our life seems now we have another day together, with our children tomorrow. We are the luckiest people in the world.
Good night. Sleep tight.
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