I am finding it harder to make time to write longer posts at the moment. I am still saving my thoughts, I just have less time to craft them into a coherent piece. I decided to share some fragments as they happen for a little while instead, so here goes...
I was sitting in Pret A Manger today having lunch. I always pop round the corner from our offices for 20 minutes with some food and the previous night's episode of The Archers. It is the only moment of tranquility in my day, and has become something of a ritual. Today's moment of calm was sadly not to be. As so often happens, I was ambushed by something that would be totally mundane to many, but for me unlocks a torrent of memories and emotions. I had got myself settled in my favourite spot when three helicopter paramedics came in for lunch. I recognised them immediately from their distinctive orange jumpsuits and the paraphernalia they had hung about them. They sat and chatted with their lunch; I sat paralysed, unable to eat mine. The last time I saw these uniforms was over a year ago, at the place where Mr D died. They looked so incongruous in the peaceful surroundings where, what felt like moments before, we had stopped after a morning's forest walk. I remember thinking how pissed off he would be when he regained consciousness and I told him that he had missed a ride in the waiting helicopter. I thought about how we would laugh about it. We never got that trip, instead we left together in an ambulance, after the two separate teams that arrived had worked on him for nearly an hour. We didn’t get sirens or blue flashing lights, there was no rush...
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