A day in the life of a slightly deranged widow… The Shooting Star

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New years eve, a time for new beginnings and dreaming of what might be. Making resolutions and promises to change our futures for the better. Last year we sat in the hot tub and Andy pointed out the constellations and tried to help me see planets and things I pretended to recognise but in truth I had no idea. I was just so happy to sit in his arms in the steam and the clear black night looking for the first star of the night to make a wish or failing that a shooting star.

This year I  went to see my grandson whose 3rd birthday it was, oh how exciting his birth had been. Ellie had wanted to have her baby here at our home  safe with me or at worst in the local birthing centre where it was quiet and personal. Andy spent the day and evening  on tenterhooks asking her every few minutes are you ok? While she puffed through another contraction.

Our first anniversary was going to be a meal out but in the end we had burger and chips, Andy declaring it was much better anyway and who wants to go out and eat steak when you can have a dirty burger at home. I have to smile at remembering how we sat on the sofa having a conversation and pretending all was normal with Andy becoming more and more concerned and whispering to me every few minutes shouldn’t she be going to a hospital?

He had been so excited throughout the whole pregnancy and had taken us for the 4 d scan posting on facebook and causing a slight panic amongst my friends  as to why we were at a scan centre and what for,  something to do with us instead? In the end we had gone to the birth centre where I helped to deliver my gorgeous little Jaime before we travelled home in the early frozen silent misty hours to present the new baby to Andy who held him while Ellie had food and a drink because he was the only one who could keep him quiet.

So here I was , 2020, the worst year of my life, alone after a flying visit to the birthday boy, in the lounge with a bottle of whiskey looking back at new years eves  gone by. Imagining what had been ,what will be in a future I’m not altogether sure I want anymore and trying to make sense of all that has happened. The idea of making a wish ridiculously naive in my new found cynicism.

I checked the clock , 7.30 pm, time for bed, With no wish to see in a new year or have any enthusiasm for what it might bring I called the dogs who readily came up and snuggled up. Falling asleep quickly I was dismayed when I woke at 11.30 pm in time to hear my phone ping with kind hearted people wishing me happiness in a future thrust upon me , the fireworks started and I hugged the dogs closer and they stayed close while I cried . My first ever New Years eve alone. 

Legend has it that wishing upon a shooting star makes the wish come true. I so want to believe in magic and when I look at a dandelion I don’t see a weed I see wishes ready to blow out on the wind but I have given up wishing as all I have wished for in the last seven months hasn’t come true. He hasn’t come back. I haven’t woken up and it was a dream. I can’t change things. 

Andy would humour me but remind me that “falling stars,” are not stars at all, but meteors going out in a blaze of glory as they enter earth’s atmosphere. And tell me 

 

When you wish upon a star…

 

…you’re actually a few million years late. Then laugh and tease me…

 

The star is dead. Just like your dreams.

 

Maybe that is why I cant have my dearest wish.

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